


A Vessle For Midnight Power

by ShippingsandDeamons



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi is having a bad time, Empty!Goro Akechi, Goro is Nyx's vessle, Ren's parents are acually good and decent people in this story, Shido sold his son for power, mental grooming, nonbinary!Nyx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-08-20 21:21:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 25,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20234560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingsandDeamons/pseuds/ShippingsandDeamons
Summary: 17 years ago, Nyx made a a deal with one Shido Masayoshi, the price? His Bastard son, who's life was sold off before he was even born. Who's sole purpose for existing would be to become a vessel for the dark power.





	1. The Deal

The figure un darkly observed him from her (their?) place sitting, suspended by unseen power in the air above him. They appeared rather feminine; soft face and high cheek bones, long black hair, Narrow shoulders and slender limbs. But there was an air to them that wasn’t wholly feminine; it was otherworldly in a way that was neither male nor female. Icy eyes continued to watch him, and just that; watch.

“Now then, Shido, what is your answer?” They asked smoothly, voice never fluctuating even once.

“I’d very much like to agree to your request, Madame Nyx, but before I give my definitive answer, I’d like to know the cost of such a deal.” He replied calmly.

The godly creature before him had offed him a deal that would promise him power; enough to one day stand as prime minister of Japan. Only a fool would pass up on such a deal, and he was no fool. But he was caution, Shido hadn’t gained the power and influence he had now by being reckless. There was always a price, and it was in his best interest to know that price before sealing the deal.

Nyx’s expression didn’t chance, but something about their face almost seemed like they were smiling.

“Wise man,” They said. “My price is simple; a sacrifice. I want you to submit a person of your choice to be my vessel should a time ever come for such a need.”

It was not what he’d been expecting, but perhaps Nyx saw more significance in the sacrifice of a single life than he did. In any even, a single person was a small price; a drop of was in the sea. But who did he offer up? Nyx said they would be their vessel, but only if the godly being ever needed such a thing. So, they would not be needing the sacrifice to submit right away.

Pondering his options, it was a surprisingly had decision to come to, he thought about the people in his control that were of the least importance to him. Then he remembered. A few days ago, he had cut contact with a woman whose name eluded him at the moment, but she was pregnant with his child. The woman had been nothing but a means to pleasure, and the child she carried was nothing but a bastard. But an unborn child would be the perfect sacrifice. Nyx could shame them to be however they saw fit.

“I believe I have a suitable candidate.” Shido began slowly. “Recently, I severed ties with a woman because she became pregnant with a child, would having me sacrifice that unborn child to you work?”

Nyx smiled. It was a small up turn of their pale lips, but it was an actual smile none the less. “My, my, Shido, you cannot comprehend how pleasing that sounds. A child unborn if the perfect sacrifice you could have offered me, a life I can groom and break into a willing vessel.”

He have them one of his charismatic political smiles. “I am glad to have pleased you, and I promise to do all in my power to ensure the child grows into a fine vessel for you.”

One life was insignificant to his goals- people were easily replaced as they grew useless to his plans. It was by pure chance that the bastard child would be of use to him, in any other place; he would have ensured the child was out of the picture entirely. Now, all that was left was to talk with that woman and acquire the child. That would be a simple endeavor; she had been easy to twist around his finger before, and it was unlikely she’d freed herself from his grip so quickly.

I will leave one of mine here to assist you in rasing my sacrifice.” Nyx said.

Raising one of their hands, a figure emerged from the gloom beneath them. The person appeared to be a young man; skin pale and hair black as the shadows he’d emerged from. He was dressed in an immaculate black butler uniform with crisp white gloves and dress shirt. The only thing off about him were the piercing gold eyes of his, as cold and dark as his master’s. 

“Greeting, sir,” The man said, bowing with an arm across his chest. “You may refuge to me as ‘Vigil’, I am hear to assist in the upbringing of the young master.”

“Feel free to leave all of the child’s care to Vigil,” Nyx added. “That is his role, after all.”

Shido smiled, and nodded. This was all working out perfectly. Not only did he have Nyx’s support, but the cost of said support was nothing. And the godly being had even given him a care taker for the brat, she he would never have to care for them at all. Vigil would ensure that the child grew to be the perfect vessel for Nyx, that there would be no risk for him.

“For now, I shall take my leave, and rest assured, when the child is born, I will fulfill my end of the deal.” Nyx promised, rising to their feet.

With a flick of their finger, they were gone, leaving Shido and Vigil alone in the foyer.

Vigil bowed his head. “I shall go prepare a nursery for the young master, please excuse me.”

Vigil slipped off to go chose a room for the nursery, leaving Shido alone in the darkness. In a few short months, His place of power would be set in stone, and there would be nothing anyone could do to prevent his rule. It was take a while, more than a decade, but the best plans were those that took their time. He would gather power, make loyal allies, and set the board in his favor.

Soon he really would be captain.


	2. The Vessle called Goro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was born to die, to stop existing the moment a god took over. It was best to be empty, so there was nothing to lose when the time came.

Life in that stifling room was all he’d ever known. In his room, everything colored in an every strong coat of the blackest pain imaginable, and under Vigil’s watchful golden gaze, ‘Aketchi Goro’ lived ‘his’ life. The only company he had other than his caretaker, was of a man named Shido Masayoshi, a politician… And his father. When he’d been old enough to understand spoken word, he learned that Shido had sold his life before he’d been born, a sacrifice to Nyx. It was the reason Vigil denied him anything that might create an identity; be it choice or happiness. He was aloud to be schooled, Vigil teaching him how to read and write, math. 

It was one of two things he’d been aloud to ask for.

“There isn’t a point to a mere vessel having an ego,” Vigil had explained. “Wouldn’t it be better to be nothing? That way, when Nyx eliminated you, there isn’t anything to lose.”

The logic behind it was not lost to him, despite his youth. It was the reason yearnings and desires, likes and dislikes had been squashed out at a young age. To ensure he would be an empty vessel when the time came for Nyx to take over his body. Very early on did his maroon eyes loose their life luster; it was easier to give in than it was to rebel.

So, it came as a surprise when just barely 14, he asks Vigil “Can I be a detective?”, and the ‘man’ agrees. He’d been isolated in Shido’s house, with only the two men for company, as a means of keeping him hollow. But, apparently Vigil did have a plan for something like this. The first few months were spent studying law and criminal investigations, whilst cultivating the skills needed. He had a natural habit of observing everything around him with keen focus, doing that with speech and body language was child’s play.

Despite being a creature destined to be empty inside, he was taught how to act like a person. It was merely an act; a mask to hide his emptiness. But it would keep people from asking question. 

Half way through his 14th year, he was finally allowed to become a detective. Using Shido’s numerous connections; Akechi (under Vigil’s supervision) assisted the police in solving a case. It was nothing grand; just a simple act of theft, and he was kept as far from the lime light has possible. But he’d finally become a detective. The rest of that year was spent similarly; assisting the police in solving cases while never receiving any recognition for his work.

It was fine. For an empty creature like him, praise and fame were useless.

That first case was the only ‘clean and simple’ case. The ones that followed were murders, crime rings, and other such horrible things wrung from the worst of humanity. Still, the more he shored his skill and the more he aided in investigations, the more he was sought after, and the more he saw.

And then, that fateful day came. 

It was a little after his 15th birthday, a date that was noted but never celebrated. Vigil was grooming his hair; brush running through locks of his waist length brown hair. When every snag, tangle, and knot had been brushed out, his amber eyed caretaker pulled it into the tight braid he normally wore it in. It kept his hair from becoming a hindrance. With his hands set motionless on his lap, he waited until Vigil pulled his hands away before moving of his own accord.

“There we go, all set for the day~.” Vigil had purred.

Picking up his phone; a simple modern touch screen device he used for solely work (with a few miscellaneous apps to make it look like he had a life), he unlocked the device to see if anything new had popped up. Thumb posed to press the text app; he paused when his maroon gaze fell upon one of the many icons that littered the screen. It was a black eye with a red and black background. He didn’t recall seeing it there before, and he hadn’t passed the phone off to Vigil for a few days, and he certainly hadn’t downloaded it (his caretaker was in charge of choosing what apps were installed at what times).

Tapping the icon, it opened up to some kind of search bar. A cursor flashed, prompting him to enter an input, below that were three diamond shapes with exclamation marks in them. It was clearly asking for key words of some kind, three of them judging by the exclamation signs.

“Young master, breakfast is ready!”

Hearing Vigil calling for him, he closed the app and walked to the dining table. Setting it down, he turned his attention away from the strange app. He’d look into it later.

Later ended up being lunch break at the station. Nibbling on the lunch Vigil had prepared, his caretaker had not gone with him to work, saying he had something to attend to. He was fiddling with the strange app, trying to solve what it was asking him for.  
“My wife got this as a memento last summer!” one of the traffic officers was bragging. “A way to celebrate 10 years together and all the rest to come.”

The object in question was a simple necklace made of a pale chain and some glass ornaments. It was a simple, none flashy trinket that was easy to wear under the uniform; perfect for a job like that. The wife had clearly put some thought into what would be suitable for a traffic cop.

“Input accepted, calculating route.” Monotonous voice replied.

Reality melted away, the break room shifting into what the young detective supposed was a hallway. The walls were warped and made of some odd stone; the floor was that same concrete-esque rock the wall were, no longer off white laminate. No one else was in this strange world. Was he dreaming?

“You have arrived at you destination.” The voice, he now knew was coming from his phone, said, the device going dark.

He tapped the power button a few times, and even tapped the screen. Nothing happened, the phone would not turn on.

“So, you’ve finally arrived.” A familiar voice said smoothly.

Turning around, he met eyes with Vigil’s piercing gaze.

“Grail did say you were chosen as the destroyer, fitting considering you are Nyx’s vessel.” He commented, almost sounding amused. “It’s ironic, you having a rebellious soul? You are just an empty shell meant to house Nyx when the time comes.” Vigil shrugged, uncaring. “But, I have no control over that that glorified PC does, if he wants a desire-less husk to be a rebellious soul, far be it from me to stop him.’

Vigil's eyes took on a particularly hard and icy look.

‘As long as it doesn’t interfere with my job”


	3. The Trickster Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so the cogs of fate turn, ushering in the arrival of the trickster, who's action with determine who wins this rigged game in the end.

It all happened so fast.

He had just been walking home from the arcade, feeling pretty good after blowing off some steam, and had only by chance passed near the two. The struggle hadn’t exactly been quiet; the woman whimpering rather loudly, as well as the man. It wasn’t his intention to meet eyes with the woman, but it happened; he saw the fear and anxiety in those teary brown orbs, desperately pleading for help.

The small “Help me” had been all the confirmation he’d needed.

He ran over and grabbed the man by his shoulder to drag him off of the trembling woman. That was all he’d intended to do. When the man tried to take a swing at him directly after, the awkward momentum caused him to loose his footing and fall over. Both he and the woman watched in mute horror has the man’s right temple smashed into the traffic guard, blood pouring from the broken skin above his right eye.

Glaring up at him, the man snarled. “You’ll regret this.”

Before he knew it, the air was alive with flashing blue and red lights and the wailing of sirens; both police and ambulance. Cops had grabbed him by both arms and were dragging him over to a car. Scared, he looked over at the woman; she met his eyes, but looked away in shame. He knew then that she would not help him. He didn’t blame her; her attacker clearly had influence if the police were ignoring his desperate pleas.

But it still stung.

He’d tried to make them understand; repeating his story over and over to his interrogators. But, none of them believed him. Between the man’s power, and the woman’s false testimony, he was convicted of an assault he committed. It was a black mark on his record; he’d forever be branded a criminal.

Because of his youth, he wasn’t sent to prison. With the help of a few friend, his lawyer was able to strike up a deal that would have him only on probation for a year, instead of in a Juvi hall. His mother had been sobbing into his father’s shoulder, her thin frame shuddering with each sob.

“I’m sorry, but it was the best we could do. A school in Tokyo is willing to take you in, and a fried of mine talked with someone who is willing to be your guardian for that time.” His dad explained as he comforted mom. “The judge was lenient, considering this is your first offense, and as long as you stay on the good side of the law, you should be back home by next year.”

His parents didn’t have any close relative living in Tokyo, so sending him with a trusted stranger was the best he could do. At least his parents had believed him. His mom, the thing and frail woman she was, had gone historical and almost assaulted an officer when they heard the news, his dad having to restrain her. 

The days leading up to his move to Tokyo were filled with his mothers tears as she hugged him any and every chance she got. Both he and dad knew the stress of this all would shoot her health in the foot later, hopefully nothing to bad happened while he was away. When the day finally arrived, he was seen off with a teary farewell (mom) and a weak smile (dad), as well as their shared promise to try and keep in touch.

It was a long train ride, so it was inevitable that something around him was bound to catch his attention. The pair of girls had been standing fairly close to him, and the phone screen had been in full view, as well as the volume on. Even out in the boonies, he knew the name Akechi Goro. They boy was a little older than him, but after his debut two years ago, was know nation-wide (maybe even world-wide) as a detective prodigy; solving some of the most heinous crimes with ease. 

He found the boy interesting, but for a different reason than the girls whispering to each other as they watched the small news report. When ever he saw a picture of the young detective, his mind instantly associated him with a porcelain doll. His skin was milky white, his long brown hair always groomed into a neat braid, doll-like yes, but what really made him look like a doll was the empty, glassy look to his maroon eyes. Akechi could have a big inviting smile on his face, but nothing could get rid of the dull hollowness to his eyes.

More interesting to him was the fact Akechi rarely was seen alone in the media; more often than not (unless it was a talk show interview), his attendant was at his side. The man simply known to the world as ‘Vigil’ (an appropriate name, considering he kept a near constant vigil over the boy) always had the hint of a smile on his lips as he dotted over his charge. Something about the man unnerved him, made him appear less than human. It could be the inhuman way he held himself as he stood at Akechi’s side, or it could be the strange glint in his golden eyes.

When the girls caught him staring at the phone, he looked away. All he had to do was survive the year with good behavior, and then he could return home. Twisting a lock of hair from his bangs, he wondered what would come next. If geed behavior meant looking the other way, he wasn’t sure he could do that. He was in this situation because he couldn’t look the other way.

He doubted his parents would want him to twist his morals, even if it ended up causing them trouble in the long run. Well, at least he knew he had an ally in them, if nothing else. They would believe and support him if he some how did end up in a juvenile correction facility.


	4. Musings of the Empty Vessle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life wasn't his own, a fact he knew well.

Life was monotonous; you got up early, ate breakfast, adults going to work while kids attended school, ate lunch in the middle of either, went home at the end, did whatever work was brought home, ate dinner, relaxed for a bit, then ended the day by going to bed. Rinse and repeat the next day. Goro’s life was every bit a routine. Vigil no longer had an alarm set for him, his body conditioned to wake up after 8 hours of sleep.

His room had no windows; Vigil had deemed them pointless and unnecessary before he was born. The lack of light made the black wall seem blacker. Slipping out from beneath black sheets and black blankets, Goro trod softly across the plush black carpet that swallowed the sound of his footsteps. He didn’t need to see to know where the light switch was, and flipped it on. He didn’t wince, even as the sudden arrival of light left him blind for a moment. The only other bit of furniture in the room besides his bed was a word desk; on it was the outfit Vigil had picked out for him. Stripping off his pajama, he changed quickly, folded them somewhat, and draped them over the back of the chair for Vigil to remove later.

Vigil was finishing up breakfast as he walked in. His caretaker offered him one of his usual inhuman smiles before returning his attention to his work. The TV was already on to a news channel, and his phone on the table, the news app open and waiting. Up until he was 15, Goro had never watched TV before, after he started assisting the police, Vigil had him watch the news in the morning, to keep him up to date. 

He was skimming over the articles Vigil had selected for him, only part of his attention attuned to the announcer and hers words.

“Now, for a special report; Earlier to day Gym teacher of a local high school just confessed to abusing his students.”

That alone hadn’t been enough to truly capture his attention; He’d seen a lot of teacher abuse cases.

“Several days before the sudden confessing, Kamoshida received calling cards from a group calling them selves “The Phantom Thieves”, and proclaiming that they would ‘change his heart’ along with making him confess his sins.”

Goro looked up at the TV. On screen was one of the supposed calling card (that had been pinned all over the school’s main announcement board). It was a simple red card with a cartoonish design of a mask, top hat and toothy smile on one side, and the other containing the declaration in a newspaper word clipping-esque style. Much like the way ransom notes on TV shows are designed.

Vigil chucked. “So, it’s already started.”

Goro didn’t ask his caretaker to elaborate, his thoughts already elsewhere. After his persona powers had awoken (or been awoken), things had changed. Vigil had reported this detail to Shido, who after some time, had proposed an idea; use this newfound power for self gain, his self gain. That his how Goro found himself killing people, becoming a hitman for Shido’s gain. By killing a person’s shadow, he could cause a mental shut down for that person, which often led to death.

Vigil had known this would happen, had wanted it to happen. The more he killed, the more he felt hollow- wanted to feel hollow. As guilt and shame took root inside, the more Goro wanted to stop existing. Shaping him even further into the prefect empty vessel of Nyx.

Vigil placed his breakfast down, a rice omelet today. Still looking at his phone, Goro picked up the spoon in one gloved hand and began eating.

Breakfast was tasteless, as usual.

Vigil’s cooking was purposefully tasteless, a means to keep him from developing any semblance of self. The first time he’d eaten actual tasteful food was after he’d started that food blog of ‘his’ around the time he started to become popular. This first thing he’d eaten that Vigil hadn’t made for him had been pancakes. The fluffy taste coupled with the creamy melted butter and sweet maple syrup might have overwhelmed his unused taste buds if nor for Vigil’s careful conditioning. 

Coffee had been the second thing he’d tasted, and the first drink to have flavor to him. Much like the food he was given, fluids were also carefully prepared to have no taste at all. It was why he called pancakes his favorite food, and always had at least 1 cup of coffee with his outside meals. Those flavors would always be special to him.

Not that anyone knew this, it was something he kept locked up tight.

He found his fame to be ironic. The masses fawning over him, girls cooing and squealing as if they actually knew him. There was nothing to know, what they saw and idolized was just a mask; a facade to people sated and the truth hidden. ‘Akechi Goro’ didn’t exist; it was just a temporary persona meant only to last until Nyx, the true self took over. 

He was just a means to an end; a tool meant for others to use. Shido had used him as a bargaining chip with Nyx, and now used him as his toy hitman. Vigil used him as a means to please his master. The police used him as a means to solve crime. The masses used him as a means of obsession; something to sait their boredom with. 

His persona embodied this; represented the mask. For an empty creature like him, that was all it could ever be. Robin Hood was a man of fable; a fairy story hero who stole from the rich to give to the poor. Vigil had commented that he was a little like that; taking from the masses to lift Shido up. But his other persona, the one Vigil had forcefully awoken after Robin Hood, truly fit him. There was a reason his cognitive outfit resembled Loki; because much like a shapeshifter, he was just playing a role and pretending to be someone else.


	5. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sae's weapons of choice were resolve and logic; both deadly in her hands.

When she’d first met Akechi Goro, Niijima Sae had mistaken him for a girl. An exasperated “Why are those ideots talking about my case with a high school girl?!” had flashed in her mind as she marched on over to where the young detective had been conversing with a pair of officers about a case she was working with them on. In her defense, she was seeing him from behind, and up until then, the only people who had long hair were of the fair sex. Needless to say; after the boy had turned around, offered her a polite smile, introduced himself (and as a rookie detective no less), Sae had been thrown off by him.

Sae had heard about Goro before, nearly everyone had when the media finally dragged him into the limelight. He was a child detective much like the infamous Shirogane Naoto, and had assisted the police in solving several high profile cases, even before the influx of fame. Akechi was a polite boy who always used polite, formal language and addressed everyone with honorifics. He was rarely seen without a smile, even in private, had a dedication to his work that even put a few of the senior investigators to shame, and was very humble; never asking for fame or recognition for his hard work. But something about the boy was off, manufactured even.

His politeness reminded Sae of her sister; Makoto. After their father’s death, Makoto had taken her polite and kind nature and pushed it to an extreme; forcing her to be a good and perfect girl who strove to please everyone. It was her way of trying to take the stress off her sister, who was the only working adult in the house now, going so far as to take care of all the household chores on top of being student council president and an honors student. Akechi’s mannerisms were similar; always pleasing everyone but himself.

On top of that, Sae noticed something else odd with Akechi, something no one else seemed to notice. Except for one other person. Akechi’s red eyes were so lifeless and hollow, despite all the smiles he put up; it made it seem like his politeness was just a mank to hide his emptiness. It was impossible that Vigil, the boy’s caretaker, didn’t notice the boy’s empty eyes. The man didn’t make a show of it, but he really was rarely away from the boy’s side to attend to his needs. Something about the man, and his interactions with Akechi, unnerved her. Be it in his watchful golden gaze that seemed to see right through a person, or the way he always had a hand on Akechi’s shoulder when the boy was making key choices or decisions.

It was almost as if the man was nurturing that hollow look while helping his young charge maintain a mask to hide it. This was how Sae, one late night after a long day at work, found herself compiling information for a possible case of abuse. When she finally realized what she was doing, the woman prosecutor groaned and closed her eyes, leaning back into her chair. 

Wha was she even doing? She hardly knew anything about Akechi, and they were simply colleges who solved cases together. What bases did she have to claim that Vigil, a kind, albeit queer and strange, man who always made sure his charge’s needs were met in a timely manner, was mentally abusing the boy? No one else noticed the strange behavior between the two, or Goro’s dull, lifeless eyes. Much of Vigil strange behavior could easily be explained as mother henning anyhow. There was no way she could make a case unless some absolute proof was presented that proved Vigil was in some way abusive.

Sighing, Sae picked up the case file she’d been reviewing prior to her little ‘project’. Despite her best efforts to push her worries aside, they stuck there in the back of her mind. Well, there was nothing wrong with watching out for the boy; he was her partner and a minor, after all.

“You’ll need to be extra cautious around Niijima.” The prosecutor director said over the phone. “She’s noticing things, if you aren’t careful she may throw a wrench in our plans.

“Oh, director, thank you for such thoughtful concern.” Vigil replied, purring. “but the chances of that happening are less than one percent. She had no bases to accuse me of anything, and can’t prevent me from being with the young master in her presence.”

The balding man saw the other'a point. Even if Niijima suspected anything, she lacked the definitive proof to accuse anyone of misconduct or wrongdoing. She was smart enough to keep these things to er self, to maintain a flawless reputation. But he knew how stubborn and driven she could be when she became obsessed with something.

“Besides, don’t you have more to worry about than the elder Niijima girl? The phantom thieves are quickly becoming a problem.” Vigil reminded him. “Out of their three targets, two of them were high profile people, they’ve gained considerable traction thanks to that.”

“Yes, your right. I’m currently doing all I can, but if they’re using the same means is black mask, it will be hard to gather evidence on them.”

“I know, that’s why I’m preparing my little crow to tail the lions. With luck, black mask should be able to infiltrate their ranks with ease. If he isn’t able to take them out himself, then he can prove you with the necessary evidence needed to take them out from your end.”

“Understood,”

Vigil set the mobile phone down. The stage was quickly being set, and soon all the players would have their characters. It didn’t really matter if Philemon’s apostles won or not, unless it affected lord Nayarlostep, but the chances of that were next to non-existent. His only concern was to make sure ‘Akechi Goro’ turned out into a suitable vessel for his master. 

As long as that grail didn’t negatively affect his plans, he had no qualms about playing along with its plans. Now then, how best to sus out those pesky thieve and insert Akechi into their ranks? Ah, Shujin was planing a felid trip soon; having students either go to a local ramen factory or a prominent TV studio. That studio was the one that often interviewed Akechi as a special guest. And at least part of the phantom thieves were Shujin students. Yes, that would be a suitable opportunity.


	6. Wildcard Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thieves see their competition in the flesh for the first time. The prince of fame is a greater danger.

On paper, a school trip sounded like an interesting endeavor. But that was just it; on paper. Red found the TV station interesting enough that he wouldn’t call himself board per se, but he couldn’t exactly call himself mentally stimulated either. Still, this was better than the ramen factory tour. Mishima was ecstatic, then again he knew who all of the big-name people were, something neither Ren nor Ryuji quite could say the same about.

Morgana was fine. He’d worried a little that their feline member might grow bored with it all, especially being stuck in a bag the entire time. His concerns were disproven when he didn’t meow complains when they were taking their lunch break. Ann hadn’t faired much better than them; one producer having walked up to her and attempting to convince her to sign on with the station before giving her a business card and leaving. Looking at their schedule, the day was almost done with. All they had left was a show taping. 

The trio along with several other fellow students were filed into the darkly lit audience section 10 minutes before filming started. They would be acting as real audience members for the show. As the stage spotlight flashed on and the cameras started rolling, the show began.

“Let’s bring out today’s guest.” The male spokesman revealed in a cheerful voice. “Popular with the youth these days, he’s the high school detective who’s solved countless cases!” His head turned to face the boy in question. “Akechi Goro!”

The teen detective stood just outside the set, his usual smile on his lips, next to him his caretaker was practically looming over him, a hand on his shoulder. The crowd around the let out a whooping cheer at the teen’s introduction. Ren wore a blank face, not particularly fazed by this. He knew this station was the one all of Akechi’s interviews took place at. A little ways away, Ann and Ryuji weren’t looking quite so calm. Neither were panicking, but both certainly were giving each other perplexed looks.

Akechi Goro was one of the few names Ren knew; a boy acclaimed as a high school detective despite not actually attending a high school, he was homeschooled. Akechi was much more alluring in person; the pictures and video recording to doing his hollow charm justice. Now, with only a few dozen meters between them, Ren could more acutely see that empty look in Akechi’s eyes, it dulled his garnet-colored eyes to a mute maroon.

A chill ran down his spine as Akechi’s caretaker zeroed in on him watchful golden eyes. The man’s smile seemed to grow just a tad wider. He didn’t know why the man unnerved him so. He murmured something into he’s ward’s ear, and then Akechi turned to look at him, empty eyes fall upon him as well. The boy offered him a smile at never reached past his lips.

A few minutes later, Akechi took his seat on one of the plush seats on set, directly across from the spokespeople. His caretaker remained standing in his place offstage; far enough that he wouldn’t be on camera, but close enough to reach Akechi quickly the moment he was needed.

Akechi sold himself well. The male newscaster had jumped right in on questioning him about his most recent case. Akechi either responded with a ‘clasified’ if it was something he couldn’t talk about yet, or find a way to make it seem like he’d played a minor role in the investigation. If the humbleness was an act, it was a very good one.

“You’re a fine young man, deserving of his reputation.” The male newscaster insisted.

“No, please.” Akechi replied with a shy smile, braid bouncing on his shoulder with the small tilt of his head.

“Moving on,” The female newscaster said, taking control of the conversation (she had spoken very little until now). “We’ve heard you alright have your eye on a new case. Care to share?”

“Ah, yes. That would be the scandal involving the master artist, Madarame.” Akechi answered smoothly.

Ren couldn’t help the subtle twitch of his eye. It was still fairly recent that they’d changed Madarame’s heart, the dust was still settling. It should come as no surprise that a master detective like Akechi would jump as early as he could, but it was still impressive.

“That’s quite the topic.” The male newscaster commented. “Then I’ll get right to it. What’re your thoughts on these Phantom Thieves of Justice?”

“If they truly sare heroes of justice, I sincerely hope they exist.” Akechi responded without missing a beat.

Ren would have taken pride in being called a hero of justice by the young detective, if not for the way his caretaker was leering at his charge, smiling almost pleasantly. It was akin to the devil smiling at his next sacrifice.

“Oh, so you don’t deny the possibility that they’re real?”

Akechi gave them one of his charming, innocent-looking smiles. “I may not look it, but I wish that Santa Claus did actually exist.” He said kindly, the added as if an afterthought. “Though, I still would have to cuff him for breaking and entering.”

The look was completer with the added small blush. The audience laughed.

“But, seriously, if there are Phantom Thieves who can manipulate other people’s minds…” Akechi started, changing gears. His arms shifting to rest on his legs, gloved fingers entwined. “I believe they should be tried in a court of law.”

Maybe it was the way up until then, Akechi had actually been praising their actions, but the change in tone surprised him. His caretaker noiselessly chuckled. Ren hadn’t noticed that his gaze had shifted from Akechi to himself, it returned before he could notice.

“Are they committing crimes?” The male newscaster asked. “Some people are saying that the Thieves are helping their victims, like Madarame, to abandon their evil ways.” 

What the artist, Madarame, did was truly a heinous and unforgivable crime.” Akechi conceded, head bowed, face veiled by cinnamon-colored bangs. “However they are taking the law into their own hands by judging him. Can that truly be called justice?” 

“It seems you have a strong opinion on the matter,” The male newscaster replied.

“The worst thing a person can do is forcefully change a person’s heart.” Akechi said, threaded fingers tightening.

Ann dropped her head to the side. Ryuji sneered, not taking to kindly to such criticism. Ren hummed in thought. Akechi’s caretaker’s smile dropped into a thin smirk.

“Now then, let’s try asking our studio audience on their opinion!” the female newscaster said from right next to him.

Ren hadn’ noticed her arrival, either he’d been so absorbed in the moment, of the woman could give his stealth a run for its money. Either was likely. She offered him the mike, indicating it was his opinion she was prompting. 

“What are your thoughts on the Phantom Thieves?"

What were his thoughts on their actions?

“They’re justice itself.” The words left his lips with no hesitance.

Akechi was silent for a moment, but his soft smile never wavered. Off to the side, he missed the odd smile the boy detective’s caretaker flashed him.

“That’s a strong assertion,” Akechi stated. “Then, I’d like to ask one more question; let’s say someone close to you underwent a sudden change of heart. Would you think it was the work of the Phantom Thieves?”

Ren matched Akechi’s questioning stare unwavering. “Not at all.”

“I see. If they believe in justice then that wouldn’t happen.” The brunette detective interpreted. “But a more important issue is at hand.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” The male newscaster inquired. 

Akechi turned his head to once again face the man. “The matter os how they change people’s hearts. If they truly possess that ability, then it could be used to commit crimes.” He explained. “Take the runaway subway train case from this spring.”

“Eh? The man said, the honest emotion behind the surprise questionable. “Akechi-kun, are you saying the Phantom Thieves were responsible for that, too?”

From their seats, Ann worred her bottom lip in concern, next to her Ryuji bristled and muttered a dark “Screw you!” under his breath.

Akechi shook his head. “This is all purely hypothetical.” He corrected gently. “Either way, this cannot be ignored. Their existence would pose a threat to our everyday lives.”

“That sounds scary.” The male newscaster agreed.

“Of course, I’m not just looking on silently.” Akechi said, looking into the audience. “I’m already working alongside the police to help sort out this matter.” 

That bit of information fell over the three like an oppressive shadow. Madarame’s change of heart had brought with it new, and greater infamy, but at the price of higher risks. They were now recognized by the police as a potential threat, and had the assistance of the second detective prince backing them.


	7. Doll-like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mistake was understandable, considering he didn't even know about the cat.

“That detective bastard!” Ryuji snarled the moment they were alone. “Is he tryin’ to threaten us with the cops?”

“But, he does kind of have a point.” Ann murmured.

“You’re taking it to heart too much, Lady Ann.” Morgana replied. “That said, we do need to be cautious as far as the police are concerned.”

Ryuji groaned loudly, clearly exasperated with the situation. “Don’t be a buzzkill!” He cried. “Why don't we stop somewhere to chill?”

“I know the perfect place!” Morgana replied, voice high with excitement. “That huge pancake-looking place that we passed on the way here! What was it called?”

“Hu, you mean Dome Town?” Ryuji replied.

Before they could properly hammer down a course of action, light footfalls echoed against the laminate flooring as one Akechi Goro exited a corner. His long ground cinnamon-colored locks no longer in the tight work braid, instead, they were aloud to cascade down his back. 

“Hey. Thanks for participating earlier.” He said, spotting them.

Morgana had ducked back into Ren’s bag to hide. The fewer people who knew about him, the better. That, and the fact the studio didn’t even know he was in there. Akechi’s eyes swept over all of them.

“Are you students of Shujin Academy?” He inquired politely.

“…Yeah.” Ryuji answered after a moment, voice low and unfriendly. 

Akechi, unfazed by the boy’s open hostility smiled at them. “I’m glad I got to see you. I wanted to thank you.” The young detective said. “Advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis.”

“What’s this about… baumkuchen?” Ryuji asked, confused by the words.

Ren knew what the boy detective was talking about, and almost let himself feel smug. Goro laughed lightly at Ryuji’s blunder with words.

“I’m saying that discussing it with you guys was very worthwhile.” He explained. He had put it in a way that even Ryuji could understand, while not coming off as condescending. “Oh, that’s right. You all were talking about pancakes, right? Well, Dome Town does have some good ones, but I’d personally recommend the ones from Sabira. It’s a family diner-style place.”

What? When did Alechi hear them talking about pancakes? Sure, he could have heard Ryuju say the name, but Dome Town wasn’t famous for anything pancake related, except for the shape. It had been Morgana who’d used the word and descriptor. Only people who’d entered the metaverse and acquired a persona could hear his actual speech in the real world.

“Ahh, young master!”

Akechi’s caretaker rounded a corner and jogged over to him. The older man placed a hand on Akechi’s shoulder before flashing them all an inviting smile.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something, but we must be going.” The man said. “excuse us.”

It was very hard to miss the way Akechi’s smile had followed the moment his caretaker had appeared, or the way he’d just, fallen quiet. As his caretaker ushered him off, he looked the most doll-like, as if he was a puppet and the man was pulling all his strings.

“Well, that was weird,” Ann said, cutting into the silence before it settled.

“Yeah, it was odd.”

The five of them, counting Morgana, met up at Leblank after school. The attic space was roomy enough for everyone to fit comfortably. 

“We’ll have to be cautious around that detective, Akechi.” Morgana said. “He’s sharp, and so is that caretaker of his.”

“Well, the man is close to him almost all the time, but what makes you call him sharp?” Ann asked.

“He gave Ren odd looks several times during the interview, most of them before he said anything. Also, his timing in the hallways was just too perfect.” Their feline member answered. “There’s something up with both of them, you can’t deny that much.”

Ren remembered the way what little vitality was there little vitality had drained away from Akechi the moment his caretaker had entered the picture. Little was known about the man, sans he reacted to the name ‘Vigil’.

“There is also the police as well, after Madarame, they have enough evidence to say we do exist.” Yusuke spoke up. “Placing odd mannerisms aside, we will have to be more cautious from now on.”

“Yusuke’s right,” Ann agreed, then shot Ryuji a pointed look.

“Hey!” the other blond yelped.

Ryuji and Ann promptly started bickering, as usual. At this point, the arguing was the norm for them, their voices quickly became a background white noise; something to stopped paying attention to after a while- like the TV. Yusuke had pulled out a sketch pad and was drawing something, as unfazed to the sounds of verbal fighting as the rest of them. 

Curious, Ren walked over their newest member and peered onto the paper. Sharp eyes, soft smile, practical braid; for whatever reason, the artist was sketching Akechi. Probably because they were just talking about him mere moments ago. It was a lovely drawing that really made all of the detective’s soft features pop, but…

“His eyes aren’t that lively.” Ren found himself saying.

Yusuke’s pencil paused as both he and Morgana gave him puzzled looks.

“Maybe it’s just me,” He admitted. “But Akechi’s eyes always strike me as dull and empty, as if there isn’t anything there.”

As though to prove his point, their leader pulled out his phone and used the internet to pull up a picture of the detective prince. Yusuke pursed his lips in thought.

“You know, I didn’t notice it at the studio, but your right. His face might look happy, but his eyes are empty.” Morgana agreed.

“Yes, how odd. I, too, never noticed it,”

“Hmh, it makes him very doll-like.”

“Make’s who doll-like?” Ann asked. Apparently, she and Ryuji were finally done giving each other a verbal lashing.

“Akechi Goro,” Yusuke replied. “And, I think I see what you mean, he does look like one of those ornamental porcelain dolls.”

“Ren was just pointing out to us that Akechi’s eyes are actually very empty,” Morgana explained to the pair.

“Hu? Wait, seriously?” Ryuji sputtered in disbelief. Ren showed them the photo.

“I never noticed it until you pointed it out, but your right.” Ann agreed. 

The mystery surrounding Akechi just seemed to deepen the more you actually looked at him. Why did someone so young and so beloved have just hollow eyes? Scrolling through more photos, Ren noticed that all of the detective’s most lifeless looks were taken with Vigil around.


	8. Noble Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His parents had believed him, even after the world had parented him. He wouldn't turn a blind eye to suffering, nor for their sake.

When he’d finally settled into Leblank the first evening in Tokyo, his mom had called. His phone had started cheeping, informing him someone was trying to call. He wasn't sure who it could be until he unpocketed the device and saw caller ID. He smiled and raised his cell to his ear. He hadn’t expected his mom to call so soon, but it was comforting after the shotgun talk Sakura-san had given him about good behavior.

“Ren? How have you been?” Her apprehensive voice asked.

“I’m doing fine. I just finished unpacking my things, and tomorrow Sakura-san is taking me to visit the principal of my new school.” He replied cheerfully.

His mother sighed, he could hear the tension draining from her body. “Good, good... Heh, if you couldn’t tell, I was worried.” He could picture the weak smile on her lips, the one she always wore when her fears were disproven. “It isn’t easy, to leave your child in the care of a stranger. I know Chibere spoke nothing but praise of the man, but it doesn’t make it any less nervewracking.”

“You’ve always been like that; scared for me, but mom, you are strong in your own way. You never let that fear stop me from doing anything, even if it meant having to press a cold compress t a black eye of mine in the evening.” He reminded her gently. 

His mother was weak of body, a byproduct of having delicate health, but her mind was sharp as a professional chef’s knives, and her soul as sturdy as a mountain. She had problems with paranoia and nervousness, but she’d never gotten in the way of him living his life; even if her fears turned out to be very founded.

“Well, a mother’s job is to protect, but it’s also to nurture her child to being the best he can be.” She quipped back. “Now then, tell me about Sakura-san, I’d like to hear your own thoughts about him.”

“He’s, hm, a nice man in his own way. He’s rough around the edges, and is quite gruff both with his words and actions, but there’s a gentleness to him, too. He owns a back ally coffee and curry shop, which smells heavenly I might add,” His mother chuckled at that. “And he doesn’t seem to rush his patrons. He might complain about them spending 4 hours on a single cup, but only after they’ve left for home.”

“He sounds like someone I would get along with,”

“Yeah, you could teach him your secret to the perfect cup of hot chocolate, help him expand the menu.”

His mother howled with laughter for a moment. “My hot chocolate isn’t that good,”

“I bed to differ,”

His mother snorted, always amused by his affectionat antics. “Alright, alright, anything else?”

“Well, he did give me a warning about being on my best behavior.” He answered, a little softer than he’d intended.

His mother noticed, she always did. “Well, I suppose it’s understandable,” She said slowly. “But, your father and I will always love you, and if you come into a situation where turning a blind eye means sacrificing your morals, we will understand if you get into more trouble. No parent should ever ask their child to sacrifice their convictions for the sake of reputation.”

“I know, and, thank you,” He said softly. “I still don’t regret what I did, I just wish it wasn't so hard on you and dad.”

His mother clicked her tongue. “Your father and I are stronger than you’re giving us credit for, if someone dares talk bad about you, I’ll kick them in the ass.” His mother said darkly. “With stilettos on.”

And she actually would. His mom could be a scary momma bear when she wanted to.

His father called him the day after he and Ryuji decided to accept Morgana’s proposition to change Kamoshida’s vile heart. He was up in his attic room, doing a bit of light cleaning to make the space for presentable. The not-cat was curled up on his bed. As he sat down, his phone started ringing. He was a bit surprised to see it was his father calling. The man worked a demanding job, the pay helped support his mom’s medical expenses. He had to have just arrived home.

“Hey dad,” He greeted, having the phone on speaker. Morgana’s ears twitched. 

“Hi Ren, sorry if I’m calling at an inconvenient time,” He father replied.

“Dad, I should be asking that about you, you just got home, right? How are you still awake.” He shot back.

“Heh, ‘m alright, I’m used to it.” His father responded.

Ren shook his head. “Dad, you are unbelievable.”

“Well you had to get it from somewhere, did you really think you got your reckless nature from your dear old mother?” He father quipped back.

Both of them shared a small laugh. His father was always busy, his mother couldn’t reliably work, so providing money fell to him. But, he always managed to find time for family, even if it meant working dubious hours to have time off for things like birthdays and parent-teacher conferences. He always made sure Ren felt loved and appreciated, despite his hash work-load.

“So, how has life been treating you?” He father asked.

“I made a friend, he’s one of the local ‘problem kids’ who dyes his hair blond and skips school,” He answered, wistful.

“Heh, you know what I say; the only reason someone’s a problem kid is ‘cause the school, or even just their parents, ain’t giving them proper attention. I’m glad to hear your making friends, and that you haven’t let your conviction deter you from doing what you think is right.”

“Heh… Well, I’m not sure if Sakura-san told you about it, but I was late for my first day of school. I wasn't actively trying to skip, some things, just happened.”

“Stuff related to your new friend?”

“Something like that, pretty sure I’m now on the guidance counselor's blacklist.”

“Following in your mom’s footsteps eh? Try not to miss too much school, or else she’ll blame herself.”

“Dad!”

There was a light flow between son and father. He always felt comfortable around both of his parents; that he was always free to be himself and nothing more. His parents had expectation fo him, who didn’t, but they never let those expectations become a burden. They wanted him happy first, smart second.

He was still so happy they believed his version of the story. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they believed he’d actually assaulted a person.

“Hey, dad,” He started. “you wouldn’t just turn a blind eye to people suffering, and wouldn’t ask me to do the same, right?”

“No, Ren, and I know for a fact you’re mother’s told you the same.”

“Even, if the bastard is a well-respected teacher?”

“’ specially if he’s some big shot. Power doesn’t give you the right to be a dick.”

“You always know just what to say.”

“Thanks, it’s right in the job description, next to ‘kick-ass for better results’, I think.”

They talked for a little longer, until Ren was finally able to pressure his father into getting some rest. The call ended with a mutual “goodnight” from both parties. Hopefully, their chat wouldn’t leave his father as the walking dead the next morning.

“…Your dad seems like a really nice guy.” Morgana said.

“Yeah, I’m lucky to have both him and mom as parents. They believed in my innocence, still do,” He hummed.

“I was wondering what kind of parents ship their child off to live with total strangers, but it seems my fears are unfounded.”

There was a wistful look in Morgana’s eye, complicated emotions ranging just beneath the surface. It reminded him that his feline companion did have memories of his own parents, that for all he was aware, his parents thought him to be dead. Or had forgotten about him.

“I’m sure they're out there.” He said. “When you finally have your body back, your parents will be happy to see you again.”

Morgana gave him a thankful look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned earlier, Ren's parents are actually good people in this story, and as such, we will be seeing more of them. I'll leave it up in the air if they ever make a physical appearance, but I will want to have some interaction with them and the rest of the phantom thieves'. (Ren's mom would totally adopt all of them in a heartbeat.) And maybe a few chats with Sojiro, at least.


	9. Cafe Leblanc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coffee there made him feel things, why?

If he was capable of such emotions, Akechi supposed me might have felt giddy as he neared the café door painted a soft shade of red. For once, he was completely alone. It was strange, not having Vigil looming next to him, a firm hand on his shoulder as he ‘attended’ to Akechi’s needs. It had been deemed best to have him interact with the Amamiya boy alone. He acquired café Leblanc’s address from Sae, who visited the establishment not quite regularly, but often enough.

Supposedly, the owner served good quality coffee and curry. Akechi couldn’t wait to see just how true that was.

A bell jingled softly as he pushed the door open, announcing his presence. There were a few people; an elderly couple enjoying coffee (the man) and curry (the woman) in one of the booths, in another booth, a businessman enjoyed a cup of his own. Taking a bar seat, he placed his briefcase on the counter and offered the older of the two behind it one of his golden smiles.

“Greetings, I’ll take a cup of whatever the house blend is.” He asked politely.

The owner, Sakura Sojiro, broke out of his dazed stupor and nodded. Going to prepare a cup of coffee, he was left somewhat alone with Amamiya Ren. The boy peered back at him from under curly black hair and thick glasses, as if judging how much of a threat he was. He offered the boy a smile, but it only made the boy press his lips together.

“Hello again,” He said kindly. “I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon.”

It was a lie, he’d come to Leblanc exactly for that reason. 

“I heard about the coffee hear from Sae-san, she told me that Sakura-san knew how to make a divine cup, so I thought I’d taste for myself how good the coffee here is.”

Amamiya continued to say nothing, gave him only a curt nod, and watch him. Before long, Sakura placed a cup and saucer down in front of him. The soft, fragrant aroma of honest to god coffee (not the crap at the police station, and not the tastless stuff Vigil brewed) wafted up. Taking the handle delicately in one hand, he lifted the cup to his lips.

Coffee was one of the first things he’d tasted, and the contents of this cup more than did the drink justice. The drink was just bitter enough that it didn’t completely overwhelm the pallet as it complimented the fruity and nutty flavors, making them pop out more. He savored the small sip a moment as he placed the cup back into its saucer.

“Delicious,” He breathed. “The bitter flavor helped to enhance the fruity and nutty flavors, and the sour flavor made the natural sweetness stand out further.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“I can see why Sae-san enjoys this coffee so much, I think I’ve fallen in love myself.” He added.

It was all just empty words. He was incapable of love, or any sort of affection really. The flowers of emotion had been choaked out years ago, as seeds, along with any chance of an ego. He continued to take small sips, wanting to savor every drop. If vigil were here, he’d undoubtedly scold him for such actions.

“Hmm, I’ve never seen anyone cry over coffee before.” Amamiya-kun commented.

Akechi brushed a finger against the corner of one eye. Sure enough, there was the dew of gathering moisture. Why was he crying? Well, it wasn’t exactly crying, but emption was lost to him. So why were tears forming? Vigil had ripped them away so long ago, it should be impossible now.

“The coffee was just that good, it brought me to tears, I suppose.” He replied lightly.

Outside, he was composed, but inside, Akechi was shaking.

Ren watched’s Akechi’s form retreat from the café. The older boy, despite how composed he’d seemed, had clearly been shaken by the tears brought upon by Boss’s coffee. Crying, or coming close to it in this case, wasn’t a normal reaction to Sakura Sojiro’s coffee blends. But, as Akechi had taken that first sip of the hot brew and savored the taste, something that might have been the sparks of life had flashed in the glassy depths of his maroon eyes.

It was the closest thing to genuine emotion he’d seen from the detective. And it had been brought about by coffee… unfortunately, there was no punchline.

“Well, at least we know the kid has good taste, even if it’s an odd way of showing it.” Morgana said as he washed his face.

Morgana had chosen to keep quiet this time, both had been caught off guard by Akechi’s arrival to Leblanc.

“Next time he’s here, I’ll talk.” Morgana schemed. “That way, we’ll know if he’s actually connected to the metaverse, and not just incredibly lucky. 

Ren nodded.

Though there was still some lingering doubt on whether Akechi had heard Morgana’s voice back at the TV station, the cat had been the only one to mention pancakes. It was possible Akechi had just heard the tail end of the conversation, and just gotten extremely lucky about mistaking Ryuji talking about Dome Town as pancake related, but every human member of the group present had used the amusement park's name, which had nothing to do with the fluffy breakfast item.

If Akechi was able to hear Morgana like the rest of them did, it meant there was more to the empty-eyed detective than meets the eye.

“I hope his caretaker isn’t with him the next time.” Morgana mused.

“Why?”

“Something about him isn’t normal, or, dare I say, even human.” The feline replied. “The way he was watching you, and I know he was watching you, was deliberate. And he just conveniently showed up after Akechi mention’s use supposedly talking about pancakes.”

Morgana was right; if Akechi was a mystery, then his caretaker was an enigma. The way he acted around Akechi, it was almost like a puppet master pulling strings behind the scenes.


	10. Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years of emptiness can't be over written by a few hours of kindness, but a gentle touch still had power.

The bathwater was a stifling warmth against his skin. Vigil’s deft hands glided the soap across his skin as sweat and grime (and unseen blood, it was always unseen) was washed away from his flushed skin. He wasn't even allowed to bath himself; this total dependancy ensured Vigil could smothering any spark of ego at almost every turn. Though, the reason Vigil bathed him was less to do with that, and more to ensure his conditioning remained firm.

The first time he’d killed someone in the metaverse, Vigil had been holding his wrists steady, to keep both them and his hands firm as he squeezed the trigger. The woman’s shock-twisted face was still burned into his mind; always there when he closed his eyes. He could still remember that last word the shadow had uttered with her last breath; “Futuba,”. That same evening, Vigil had needed to restrain him to keep his fingers from clawing away at the skin on his arms and hands. 

He was denied even bad habits. To keep Akechi from scarring his hands, or chewing his lips unto oblivion, Vigil had forced some kind of drug down his throat; leaving him totally paralyzed for the remainder of the evening. His body, his mind, his soul; everything belonged to Nyx.

Just as Vigil had wanted, the pain of killing had festered in his mind; eating and eroding away at what little there was to destroy. A part of him awaited Nyx gladly; wanting the dark goddess to just hurry up and replace him, end the pain.

The last of the soap was niced from his skin, then came the conditioner. Akechi tipped his head back obediently to let his caretaker cleanse his hair of the remaining product. When he was thoroughly rinsed, he was helped out of the now opaque water, a fluffy towel wrapped around his body as water was wrung from his long hair. When he was sry, he was left alone for a few minutes to dress himself before Vigil reappeared. The man held a glass of water in his hand and offered it to his charge.

Akechi knew it wasn't ordinary water; that some sort of sleeping air had been mixed in to ensure a dreamless sleep. His dreams were haunted by the twisted faced and hellish screams of his victims; both dead and alive. He downed the water, then handed the glass back to Vigil. His caretaker tucked him tightly into bed, then took his leave from the black room, leaving his ward to a dreamless sleep.

So far, everything appeared to be proceeding as planned. ‘Akechi Goro’ was nothing more than a lifeless puppet fooling the world into thinking he was alive. When Master Nyx finally had the power to take control, there wouldn’t be anything there to stop them. At this point, the boy was just waiting to be replaced, to stop existing.

So, then why did he feel worried?

Vigil had no reason to fear that the boy would be anything less than compliant. Even that damn Grail had assisted in his mission, by giving the boy the power to kill. Killing had emptied the boy even further. And yet, a thorn of worry continued to jab itself into his side, making him question how sure he was that everything would go as planned. The concern, the doubt, it had appeared soon after Akechi had returned from Leblanc. For a moment, he’d thought he’d seen light in those dark eyes, but it was gone quickly.  
Now that he thought about it, the boy always did seem livelier after visiting the café. But years of careful conditioning and mental grooming were not so easily cast aside. Even if they were Philemon’s little pawns. That couldn’t change what wasn’t there. And, as a persona user, Akechi didn’t have a shadow to change. Hm… For now, all he could do was keep an eye on the boy.

Soon enough, the Phantom Thieves’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory. If they were the ones trying to breathe life back into that empty husk, well, the dead can’t save anyone, now can they?

“He didn’t look much like a doll then, now did he.” Morgana said.

“Un,” Ren agreed.

Akechi had quickly become a regular of Leblanc. He only ever ordered coffee, but a few times either Sakura or he himself had given the detective some complimentary curry. It hadn’t brought the boy to tears the first time, like the first cup of coffee had, but he’d brightened up as he savored the subtle spice and hint of coffee. It was the closest thing to alive Akechi got to be.

They knew he was a persona user. The second time he’d visited, Morgana had spoken (about answers to the most recent test), using some very Ryuji language as they ‘compared’ answers.

“Mo, you really went with that one? I swear, I thought it was the wrong one.” Morgana faux cried.

“We won’t know for sure until they post the test results, I very easily could have gotten it wrong.” He replied softly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Akechi pause mid-sip and look around. He placed the cup back into its saucer.

“Are you on the phone?” the brunette detective asked, fake sweet smile on his lips.

Ren nodded.

“Ahh, I heard you talking with someone, but it looked like no one was here.”

After that test, Morgana took extra care to not speak within hearing range of Akechi. The next thing the pair had decided to do was wrestle whatever information they could from the detective, which had somehow evolved into sparking as much life into him as possible.

“You remember what Kaneshiro said, about the person killing in the metaverse?” Morgana said.

“Yeah, and the black-masked person Madarame saw,” Ren replied. “You think it might be Akechi, right?”

“Yes. He has power in the metaverse, hearing me speak is proof of that, and yet we haven’t seen him before. Mementos is big, but not that big.”

“…”

“But, if Akechi is this supposed hitman, I don’t think he’s doing it of his own will. There’s a person pulling the strings. And it isn’t Vigil.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s someone other than Vigil pulling his strings, and that person is the one profiting most off of mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns.”


	11. Guilty Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wouldn't give it up, even if it meant deceiving Vigil.

Executing a shadow that was already weakened from a fight was child’s play. The bullet passed right through Okumura’s heart, as intended. With this death, Shido, and by extension his, secret was safe. For now. He watched the shadow turn to black ash, like all the others before now. Another new weight around his neck to drag him down, another person – parent – dead to feed the guilt a little more. After 2 years of this, it quickly evolved into a series of tallies; he was too numb and empty to grieve- his tears had been taken long before he was groomed to kill.

What would Amamiya think if he could see him now? Akechi wasn’t even sure why he was asking himself this, after spending time with the younger boy, it had started to become a habit. So had the liberating smiles and laughs shared between them, the tantalizing cups of coffee, the almost happiness of Leblanc in general. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real. That was what he kept insisting to himself.

Then why did he hide this fake happiness from Vigil? 

It didn’t matter.

With Okumura’s death, the Phantom thieves would suffer both sweet victory and bitter defeat. Everyone would know with the tycoon's coming confession, his heart had been changed by the Phantom thieves. When he suffered a mental shutdown on live broadcast, the public would assume the sin fell to their much-beloved Phantom thieves. After that, all he needed to do was reveal himself as a persona user and lead then into Sae’s palace.

From there, Amamiya Ren’s death assured. Hmm? The thought of Amamiya, lifeless and broken, why did it make his chest hurt? He was empty, and had killed several others- he’d just killed an already beaten man, so why? Akechi shook his head to clear away his thoughts. It didn’t matter right now, he needed to leave before the palace fully collapsed, ejecting him somewhere into the depths of mementos.

Vigil was waiting for him, as always. He offered the golden-eyed man a curt nod before allowing himself to be guided back to the house- back to his dark room.

“Young master, if there anything you haven’t informed me of?”

Many things, none of them important. “No,”

If Vigil didn’t believe him, the man hid it well. He didn’t press the issue any more than that. For some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want Vigil to know about how warm Leblanc and Amamiya made him feel inside. Or how cold and lonely the prospect of killing the raven-haired adolescent chilled him. Vigil would surely rob him of both- crush those emotions under a heavy heel and never leave him alone around the boy ever again. 

Those moments with just Amamiya – and Morgana – were what he treasured most. They were all that made life bearable at the moment, and it wasn’t as if they made him want to continue living. No, he was still more than willing to be tossed into oblivion by Nxy as the goddess took possession of his body. But these small moments almost made it feel like ‘Akechi Goro’ truly existed, and was more than just a mask to fool the masses.

The bland food and drink Vigil prepared for him made him long for a cup of Sakura-san coffee, and maybe a pale of his coffee spiced curry. He kept his face blank with each bite of tasteless pasta as easily as he offered smiles on his most hollow of days.  
“You interest me, Akechi-kun,” Amamiya commented, moving his pawn forward.

“I’m flattered, I find you quite interesting, myself,” He replied kindly, offering a smile. It felt like the other boy could see right through him.

“I find it fascinating, how someone barely my age is so empty inside,” The raven-haired boy continued, Akechi felt himself inwardly flinch. “and you hide it so well, if I couldn’t see your eyes, I wouldn’t have been able to tell if that smile was genuine or forced- it’s that latter, I can tell by how it doesn’t reach your eyes.”

The grip on his bishop tightened ever so slightly. How was this boy seeing right through his mask?

“Amamiya-kun, your humor is quite strange,” He replied “me, empty? I assure you I’m quite alive inside.”

The younger boy saw through his lie, his lip quired for a moment into a grin.

“Really? Then why is your hand shaking?”

What?

Quickly glancing at his hand, it was indeed trembling ever so slightly. An untrained eye might miss it, but his eyes were far from untrained. And so were Amamiyas’, it seemed. The boy was dangerous, with how easily he saw through his carefully worn mask.

“I believe that’s a checkmate,” Amamiya said coyly.

Indeed. Somewhere between being lost in his own thoughts and now, he’d made a blunder and let Amaiya’s knight slip through, followed by his queen. 

“Yes, it seems you’ve bested me this time,” He agreed warmly. It was fake, like everything else about him. “You’re getting very good, soon you won’t need to distract me to win.”

“I didn’t intend to distract you, I just wanted to see how you’d react to being called out.”

“Young Master, is something bothering you?” Vigil asked.

Did he dare tell the man about how Amamiya saw right through him, has been seeing right through him for who knows how long? The sane thing to do was inform his caretaker of this development, let him know how much of a threat that Phantom Thieves’ leader was shaping up to be. But, if he did that, then Vigil far more critical of his time spent at Leblanc, if he was even allowed to go there at all.

Give Vigil information that would likely ensure the outcome was to their favor, or keep it secret? Really, it all came down to how much he valued his time spent in the cozy interior of the café, playing chess with the adolescent he is soon meant to kill.  
“No, it’s nothing.” He answered in that monotonous way of his when guilt was eating away at him. It was, he’d just killed a man after all.

“…Alright, I’ll go draw a bath.”

“Understood,”

He hadn’t lied, but it was the first time in his 17 years of life that Akechi purposefully his the full truth from Vigil. He couldn’t give up the warmth and companionship, it was his one treasure.


	12. Old Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The genius are often very ditzy. That's the saying, right?

“Akechi, Akechi, Akechi…”

Ren could see Makoto’s left eyebrow twitch, but it was the only part of her face that deviated from it’s schooled calm mask of control.

“Oh, this one says Risetta on it,” Ann said, handing the slip to the other girl.

“Yeah, and this pile says Akechi,” Ryuji muttered darkly.

A big event at Shujin’s culture festival was having a guest speaker, someone with working experience, who was decided by a majority vote. It could be just about anyone, given they both had enough votes and agreed to come and speak. Ren found it unsurprising that so many people had written Akechi Goro on the vast majority of them, he was popular with both the male and female students (for strikingly different reasons- in most cases), and that popularity had only increased 3 fold after his return to grace thanks to Okumura’s death and the shift in public opinion on the Phantom Thieves.

Both Ryuji ad Makoto, however, seemed surprised to see so many votes for the young detective.

“Seriously? Why the hell is that bastard to popular?!” The blond delinquent cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Seriously?” And said flatly. “You’re seriously asking that?”

“Lady Ann is right, it should be of no surprise that Akechi is so popular, especially with the students.” Morgana agreed.

Makoto shook her head. “Regardless, the student pick for this year’s guest speaker is Akechi Goro, it can’t be helped.”

“Do we really have to ask him to come?” Ann asked. “It’s risky,”

“I know, but I’m obligated to ask, he was decided on by a majority vote,” Makoto replied, sighing. “Unless he delines the invitation – which there is a chance- he will be our guest speaker.”

“This bites!” Ryuji proclaimed loudly.

“Well, this might be a good opportunity to siphon information out of him, see how much he knows.” Ren proposed.

“Ren’s right, if Akechi is indeed the black-masked hitman behind all the shutdowns and breakdowns, we know nothing about his powers, or the man pulling his strings.” Morgana agreed.

“Wouldn’t he have a persona like us?” Ryuji pointed out.

“Yes, but what does that persona look like, what attacks can it resist, what are its weaknesses?” Morgana countered.

“Morgana has a point,” Makoto agreed. “We’ve never seen him fight in the metaverse, all we know is that he’s able to kill shadows, not why or how.”

“For all we know, he might be like Ren and have multiple persona at his disposal,” Ann said.

“We’re screwed if that’s the case- all he’d have to do is switch between ‘em to throw up off.” Ryuji groaned.

“Which is why we learn all we can about him.” Morgana reminded the golden blond. “We know he’s connected to the metaverse, but he might not know about us,”

“And even if he suspects us, he has no reason to think we suspect him,” Ren finished.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Akechi hadn’t noticed him quite yet. Morgana took this opportunity to burrow into his book bag to hide away from the detective’s sharp, empty eyes. Ren had other plans. Messing with the detective had become a pass time, and this was a golden opportunity.

“Honey, I’m home.” He said, walking toward Akechi.

The detective gave him a quizzical look. “Welcome back, you’re home awful late.” 

“Really? I thought I made it back just in time for dinner.”

Sojiro, used to his antics around the brunette, gave him a parting glance before promptly turning his attention elsewhere. He’d long ago stopped caring about the witty banter between the two. As long as their faux flirting didn’t disturb anyone, he could ignore it.

“Oh, yes, Makoto will likely be calling you later,” Ren said. “An event at Shujin’s culture festival is having a guest speaker who’s decided by majority vote.”

“And I was the top pick,” Akechi inferred. “Hmm, I’ll have to check my work schedule, but if I have the time, I’ll be sure to make it.”

“…I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m glad, now, would it be too much trouble to ask you to make me a cup of coffee? Sakura-san already served me one, but he mentioned you’ve gotten quite good at it, so I thought I’d see just how good you’ve gotten.”

Ren smiled. “Heh, I might not be as Sojiro’s level yet, but I’ve been told I can make a mean cup of my own.”

“I look forward to it.”

“The spicy one’s obviously that red one.” Ryuji pointed out.

Everyone peered down at the fresh-from-the-microwave Takoyaki the young maid had just placed down. Someone (name: Ryuji) had decided to go ahead and order the Russian takoyaki, which was basically a Russian rullet style takoyaki where one of them was really spicy. One of the doey balls was a bright, red pepper red, and was ironically enough, the one with the stick poking out of it.

“It’s obviously the bright red one.” Futuba agreed.

“Oh, so this is where everyone is.” A charismatic voice mused.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom turned maid café, the famed detective stood, an inviting smile on his lips. He walked towards them with the confidence and poise only a detective and a public idol could have.

“Akechi.” Yusuke said, almost as a terse greeting.

“The panel isn’t until tomorrow…” Makoto almost mumbled, clearly as confused at his presence as the rest of them.

He gave them all a polite smile, it never reached his eyes. “I came to check out the venue. I can’t make any mistakes since a lot of people will be present.” He explained.

The boy’s fake sweet disposition might have been palatable, and for the most part was, if not for the lip-curling bitterness of hollow movements and even emptier eyes. It was scary how someone so young was nothing more than a painted shell, and no one seemed to care. Ren felt himself tense slightly at the detective’s presence. Akechi’s eyes fell to the plate of warm Russian Takoyaki.

“Hmm, I am a bit hungry, would it be alright if I have one?” he asked, almost shyly. The emotion nearly genuine.

“Sure, go right ahead,” Ren replied.

To everyone’s shock, and Makoto’s horror, Akechi plucked up the obviously spicy Takoyaki. Before anyone had a chance to warn the airheaded detective of the danger, the Takoyaki slipped past pale lips in one bite. Everyone watched with bated breath as Akechi began chewing.

“This is quite deli-“ Akechi’s words trailed off as his mask of pleasant kindness turned to blank porcelain. Ren swore he heard a gunshot sound.

Empty eyes stared blankly at the table as the detective just stood there. He was still as a statue, not even chewing.

“… Is he al-“

“How spicy.” Akechi said, cutting Ryuji off.

The teen detective turned his head away from them and let out a breath slowly, face still unreadable. If this was an anime or manga, there might have been a comical burst of fire, or exhale of steam.

“You Master?! Are you alright?” Vigil’s voice cut in. He didn’t sound at all worried about Akechi’s blue screen stasis, more perplexed.

The golden-eyed man shoved a plastic bottle of some kind into his ward’s gloved hand, the cap already off. Almost immediately the moment the container was in his hand, the bottle flew to Akechy’s mouth and he drained it in seconds. His rigid statue posture drained away into something more doll-like as Vigil shepherded Akechi off.

“I think we broke him.” Futuba said, stating the obvious.

“Akechi… is surprisingly ditzy,” Ann said.

Ryuji started laughing.

“That detective, he is truly cunning.” Yusuke mused.

“Yeah,” Morgana agreed.


	13. A New Target

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the two sides meet, and start to strike a deal.

If he had the capacity for hate, Akechi though he might have glared daggers into Shido’s turned back. But he was an empty vessel, Shido’s sacrifice for power; he was incapable of emotion. That’s what he kept telling himself, as tiny blossoms of warmth bloomed every time he visited Leblanc. 

“So, the identity of the damn Phantoms has finally been ascertained?” Shido demanded.

“Yes, all of Akechi’s hard work has finally born fruit, we have video evidence of them entering Okumura’s palace.” Vigil confirmed, coy as ever.

“Good, all we need to do now is proceed as planned.”

After several months of building up the Phantom Thieves’, both with the fake Medjed and their little ‘Phan-site’ poll, they’d blown the card house down with Okumura’s ‘tragic’ death on public TV. The thieves which had once stood as icons of hope and been thrown from their pedestal and painted the darkest of black. The next step was to lure them into Sae Nijima’s palace, and then capture Joker, their leader. Who was also Amamiya Ren.

“That will not be a problem, tomorrow he will make contact, it shouldn’t be a problem to get them to agree, considering the position they are all in at the moment.” 

Starting tomorrow, he would deceive the Phantom Thieves’, the few people who brought him more than just emptiness. Any hesitations or objections he might have had, in a different life, were none existent. All he could do is play the role assigned to him, even if it meant killing the one person who was starting to make him feel alive.

“Boy, how confident are you that you can get this done?” Shido asked.

He gave the man a leveled, empty stare. “I see no issues moving forward.”

Closing his eyes, he could feel Vigil’s eerie smile upon him. Tomorrow, he would start his march to hell. 

He was used to having everyone’s attention squarely on him, it was what happened when one becomes famous. Maybe a few could see behind the mask that was ‘Akechi Goro’, but none bothered to acknowledge it. As long as he looked pretty and acted desirable, it didn’t matter that he was rotten and hollow inside. No one cared.

He offered Makoto Nijima a polite smile, one he shared with the aduience, and humored her with some witty banter. It couldn’t have been more obvious that she was trying to wrestle was ever information she could about the investigation from him. Sae was likely no longer a source of information to the group, and now they were in desperate need of a new one. This would be a simple matter.

“So then, do the police had any suspicions as to who the Phantom Thieves’ might be?” The younger Nijima asked.

“No, they don’t and considering what evidence they do have, it’s unsurprising,” He replied. She was playing with fire, perhaps turning up the heat would be appropriate? “But I do have my own suspect.”

A few whispers erupted in the audience as Nijima Makoto paled. Up on the balcony of the second floor, Amamiya stood with a small gaggle of his friends, the dark-haired boy remained calm, but his friends all tensed. Amamiya had quite the steeled nerves, or maybe his poker face was just that impeccable. Truly a match for his own mask of life

“Would you care to share with us who you suspect are the Phantom Thieves’?” Nijima pressed.

He would have to play it carefully here, he didn’t want the masses to know just yet.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” He replied. “But be warned, there is both the possibility that I am wrong, and the chance everyone here could be hearing the truth before the media.” 

Almost time.

“The identity of the Phantom Thieves’, I suspect they- most of them- are students of this very academy.” He started. “And they are very likely people you all know and interact with daily.”

He looked at Nijima, then at Amamiya and his friends.

“The Phantom Thieves’ are-“

The loud pitch of a catchy ringtone cut him off, holding everyone on the edge with suspense. He unpocketed his phone, silencing it, and pretended to be looking at something of importance.

“…I must apologize, but it seems something at work has come up, it there a private place I can use for about 10 minutes?” He asked.

“…Y-yes,” Nijima said.

He smiled. The moment he was out of range for the microphones to pick up his voice, he murmured “meet me there, with all of your friends,” Before exiting to backstage.

The brief moment between when he arrived at the student council room, and when the Thieves’ did was long enough for him to pull the photos from his briefcase. He already knew the deal he planned to make. When seven bodies shuffled in to join him, he met open hostility with fake politeness.

“Just as I suspected,” He said.

“Get on with it!” Sakamoto Ryuji growled, the most hostile of the group. “What the effin’ hell do ya’ want?”

How eloquently put, but he couldn’t have been blunter. It worked in his favor, cutting right to the chase. He set the Photos down hoe everyone to see. He could see the way everyone but Amamiya stiffened.

They’re obviously fake!” Ryuji said.

“I also have a video,” He replied sweetly.

“What is it that you want with us?” Kitagawa Yusuke asked. “You obviously have the evidence needed to incriminate use, so then why are you hear showing it to us?”

“Simple, I want to strike a deal with you all,” He replied.

He didn’t miss the movement in his perifrial, but ignored it, the shape was too small to be human. But… weren’t their 8 figures in the metaverse?

“You’re using the metaverse to enact those changes of heart, correct?” They were surprised to hear that term uttered from his lips. “It’s unsurprising that you haven’t been caught, a world like that would never turn up in any ordinary investigation.”

“What do you want?” Amamiya asked. “Is there a person’s heart you want us to change?”

He was genuinely surprised to hear Amamiya say that. The boy was sharp.

“Yes, I came here to ask you to change the heart of Nijima Sae.” He replied.

The dead silence and dumfounded looks were a welcomed change.

“Sae’s actions recently have become, reckless, when she would given charge of the task force looking into the Phantom Thieves’, I’m concerned that at this rate she may end up doing something unforgivable for the sake of self-gain.”

“Is that you’re only reason?”A voice asked.

It was familiar, but didn’t belong to any of the seven standing before him.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of your conditions is having us disband after we’ve helped you.”

His eyes fell upon a black cat with a white muzzle and paws- the pattern resembling the smallest member of the thieves’. A talking cat and only seven thieves’ present. Oh dear, and its voice was so familiar, but from where?

“That cat just spoke, right?” He asked instead, putting up a mask of astonishment. “I swear, it just did,”

“You aren’t hearing things, Morgana can talk,” Takamaki Ann said slowly.

“But he does raise a good point,” Okumura Haru pointed out. “Are you going to ask us to disband.”

He’d prepared himself to Face Okumura Haru and Sakura Futaba, but staring at the two girls still made it feel like someone was violently twisting a dagger in his gut. It was his fault they were orphaned, his falt one almost became a foster child and the other now had the weight of her father’s twisted company on her thin shoulders.

“I thought about it, but I am not going to make that a condition.” He answered smoothly. “For one reason or another, the thought of you disbanding after this felt, wrong. So, for now, all I want is your cooperation.”

It wasn't even a lie. At first, he’d intended to make that a clause in their agreement, but considering how pointless it would be in the end, and the strange miasma that came with trying to even think of asking them to disband… He’d deemed it an unnecessary demand. There was every reason to believe they’d find a way to keep working despite his supposed threats.

Earning their trust and cooperation was his highest priority.


	14. White Crow

Sae undoubtedly had a twisted desire, but it wasn’t until very recent that a treasure had manifest, and a palace formed. It was all thanks to the SUI director, and his careful poking and prodding of the young prosecutor; pushing all the necessary buttons to quickly develop her distortion. Akechi knew all of this because he was a key player in Shido’s plans; there was little he didn’t know. It wasn't out of trust, Vigil perhaps, but because he was just a puppet- incapable of going against his strings.

It had been a long time since he’d last used this metaverse costume. After obtaining Loki, he’d acquired a second outfit, something far more appropriate for his role as puppet and hitman. Well, it didn’t matter, the costume better fir with his title of ‘detective prince’. And it would raise less suspicion than the other one, especially considering that other mask was black.

Everyone was gathered right outside the prosecutor’s building, creating a bit of an odd group of characters. They would have to enter soon, before their strange appearance (mostly Sakamoto and Takamaki, though Kitagawa also was striking) drew unwanted attention.

“Alright, I take it you already know the keywords?” Morgana asked.

He nodded. “Yes, I figured them out before approaching you all.”

The cat dipped his head in a nod as Amamiya unpocketed his phone and opened the metanav.

“Sae Nijima, Prosecutor’s office building, Casino,”

“Target found, selecting rout to destination.”

Akechi closed his eyes and the world shifted and twisted for a moment, then opened them when it was over. The unassuming building of the prosecutor’s office building had been replaced by a high-end casino, complete with flashing neon lights depicting things related to justice. The buildings were left untouched by the distortion. So Sae only saw the public prosecutor’s office as a gamble of justice. Everyone was still in their uniforms, meaning they were yet to be seen as a threat by Sae just yet. It was a good thing he decided not to will his metaverse garb into manifestation, it would leave him the odd one out, and show too much of his hand.

Choice words about Sae’s distortion were exchanged, a conversation Akechi chose to have little to do with, out of respect for the younger Nijima.

“We need to decide on Akechi’s code name,” Takamaki said, changing the subject.

“Code names?” He inquired. 

He’d only ever observed the Phantom Thieves' from afar, never close enough to hear more than a few random words.

“Yeah, we use code names inside the metaverse, to help hide out identities,” The blond girl explained. “Like, mine is Panther,”

“I’m Skull!” Sakamoto replied with a grin.

I’m Noir, and Mako-chan in Queen.” Okumura replied.

“I am fox.” Kitagawa deadpanned.

“I’m called Mona here,” Morgana, no longer just an ordinary cat, said. “And our leader goes by Joker.”

How fitting, going with a code name that was very literally a wild card.

“Mostly our code names are based on our appearance,” Takamaki added.

“Hmm, well if we were to give me a code name based off of my metaverse appearance, I suppose Kurasu would be appropriate.” He responded wistfully.

Kurasu, crow, how fitting than he chose something representing bad luck.

“Heh, you dressed all in black then?” Sakamoto asked smugly.

“No, the opposite actually, but the name fits with my mask.” He replied.

“Kurasu, the would make you the only Japanese sounding one,” Nijima pointed out.

“Let’s go with Crow instead.” Takamaki proposed.

“I don’t mind,” He replied, giving his consent.

It wasn't until they entered the palace that their clothes finally changed. Standing closer to the back of the group, no one had noticed yet that he was dressed in all white.

“What the yell?!”

So, they finally noticed.

“What is that getup?!” Sakamoto asked in disbelief.

Akechi’s outfit was something styled after a western prince; pressed dress pants, a shirt, and formal coat combo, all in white. It contrasted slightly with the golden tassels on his shoulders, and the crimson mask decorating the upper half of his face. The mask itself resembled the beak of a bird, looking almost similar to the long beaks plague doctors wore.

“I told you all before, my outsit is the opposite of black.” He replied kindly. 

“But it’s so flashy, there's no way you’ll be stealthy in that!” 

”Enough Skull,” Morgana snapped. “While I do agree that it’s very eye-catching, it’s just how Akechi perceives rebellion.”

Rebellion? What did that have to do with his outfit?

Akechi might have, in another life filled with more emotions, felt embarrassed for Sae. The leather dress and gaudy makeup made her look almost like Yakuza, and the tattoo painting her right arm didn’t help that image in the slightest. Though, in a way, it made perfect sense. Law enforcement was heavily male-dominated, as were most places in Japan, and women, no matter how competent, tended to be looked down upon as weak and inferior. The older Nijima just wanted people to see her as an equal; as someone who could do the job as well as they could.

Regret was a low flame, slowly blistering his intentions.

…Perhaps he could have reigned back a little.

Akechi had intended to simply show he would not be slowing them down, instead of showcasing extream power and the ability to use that power competently. Officially, he’d only had the power of a persona for about a month at most, not the near 2 and a half years he’d actually prowled the metaverse. He would need to be careful not to get reckless a second time. He was supposed to be a rooky, not a master.

In the recesses of his mind, he felt Robin Hood’s unspoken apology. It was fine, it was his own fault, not the persona’s. Beside the Sentai Hero themed persona, Loki raged against his mind to be set free and tear shadows to shreds. He reigned in the violent persona with a mental ‘shush’.

It was a good thing he had a few targes to deal with in mementos, he could let Loki run wild for a few hours.


	15. Discreat Affection

The black saber that was his physical weapon cut through shadows as though they were butter and it a hot knife. He hissed as an ice attack clipped his right shoulder, Robin Hood’s attack not doing quite the amount of damage he’d anticipated. The shadow let out a dying shriek as Joker’s Arsen finished the monster off.

“Are you alright?” Their noble leader asked.

Akechi nodded. His shoulder stung, but it was a superficial wound that would heal quickly, leaving not so much as a scar- as always. Joker – Amamiya Ren – lingers just long enough to observe him, and determine how much of that was lying through his teeth. When the raven-haired youth seemed certain he wasn't in danger of keeling over from low health, the thieves continued their march onward.

Robin Hood’s shining elegance was different from Loki’s savage grace, the contrast was black and white. After using the trickster for so long, always having to take care with the other’s scalding hellfire lest he be burned himself, Robin Hood’s complacent and mild disposition had him unnecessarily hold back his power, causing his attacks to be all over the place in terms of damage output. But that fluctuating, wild management of power helped strengthen the illusion that he was still an amateur compared to the rest.

“How’s your shoulder?” Noir asked.

“Alright, the attack didn’t break skin,” He replied.

The curly-haired brunette smiled. “That’s good, it wouldn’t do for one of our strongest attackers to have to fight with a bad shoulder.”

“Hey!” Skull called. “We’re movin’ on! Hurry up!”

“Hell, that’s our cue,” Nour replied.

That was something that puzzled. The Phantom Thieves had quickly accepted him into their ranks, his role quickly falling into place as the others attuned themselves to his fighting style and attacks. It was too unbelievably easy, how quickly the seemed to place their trust in him, leaving the young ‘detective’ on the edge of paranoia.

Vigil was unaware of any of this, all his caretaker knew was that the Phantom Theives had excepted him as one of their own, and were making great progress towards Nijima Sae’s treasure, even with their regular visits to mementos. It was unsurprising, considering that had a grandmaster tactician – Queen, one of the worlds greatest hackers – Oracle, and an adept leader – Joker. Hell, Mona was well versed in the habits of shadows, making the cat a good on the fly navigator to give Oricle a decent buffer, as well as a decent healer to pick of Panther and Queen’s slack. Fox had an artistic grace to his movements that helped confuse shadows. Panther had quite a few debuffs to her name, both Skull and Noir were powerhouses in their own right, as well as sharp-eyed when needed.

If he wasn’t the mole waiting to stab them all in the back, what would his role be? Certainly, he'd be a jack of all trade like Joker was, considering his power to also hold multiple persona at a time, but other than that, it was hard to tell.

Maybe it was because he was empty inside, unlike the others. Actually, why was he even thinking about it? None of this mattered in the long run, and much of his thinking was leading to a hypothetical situation where he was a part of them from the start. An impossibility, considering he’d been placed under Vigil’s care the moment he’d been born.

“So, Akechi-kun, why did you become a detective?” Nijima Makoto asked.

Leblanc rarely had many people, that coupled with Sakura Sojiro’s divine coffee was why he liked the cozy place so much. The atmosphere was always so peaceful and warm.

“Actually, I’ve wondered that myself,” Takamaki agreed.

He’d anticipated their inquiry. Leblanc was empty, and Sakura behind the high bar. He trusted them, even the loudmouthed Sakamoto, to keep anything he said a secret. A little bit of the truth wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright, I don’t see why not,” He replied kindly.

“Meh, it’s probably going to be some cliché think like ‘I want to make society a better place’,” Sakamoto said with a disinterested shrug.

“Heh, sorry to disappoint, but the reason I because a detective is purely selfish,” Akechi replied, letting his voice take on a somewhat solemn note.

Even if he was giving them an edited version of this story, his own truth and their’s weren’t all that different.

“I don’t know who my parents are, I was put under Vigil’s care at birth. I don’t know if they're simply dead, or if I was just unwanted, but I never met them, Vigil has been the closest thing to a parent.” He started. 

Some parts were true, others not. He didn’t know who his mother was, simply that she was a person Shido had been fooling around with before his birth, and had abandoned some time after his conception. Shido not once had attempted to be a parent to him, so Vigil really was the closest thing to a parent he had.

“When I was 14, I decided I wanted to be a detective, not out of some grand dream of igniting change or becoming famous, but because I wanted to accomplish something and have it be mine. Maybe, I also wanted to prove to others that a nobody like myself could find their place in the oppressive society, and show others that they can do the same.”

“It seems you aren’t that different from us, Akechi,” Kitagawa used.

“Yusuke’s right, like us, you’ve been cast aside and broken down by the vicious adults of this system, but found a way to rebel against it.” Nijima agreed.

Well, she wasn’t wrong that like all of them, he was being used by adults for their self-gain, but unlike the Thieves, he hadn’t rebelled against the system and broken free of their oppression. He was incapable of resisting, to broken and empty inside to do that. Just as Vigil intended.

“Yen for your thoughts?” Joke purred smoothly into his ear.

“It’s nothing, just calculating the best way to earn all the tokens we need,” He replied calmly, suppressing the shudder of surprise.

Joker was very close, shoulder touching shoulder close. The other were ahead, but still within sight, though he might as well be along with the raven-haired youth for all it mattered. He felt fingers run their way through his long locks of hair, almost causing him to pause mid-step.

“You’re braid’s come undone,” Joker informed him, as if sensing his trepidation. “You’d you like me to redo it?”

“That, would be for the best, it would be disastrous if it got caught on anything.” He answered tensely.

This wasn’t the first time Joker and he had been this close, gloved fingers running through his hair to smooth out any tangles. From the moment their alliance began, Joker tended to enter his personal space quite frequently. He never did anything to invade his person, or touch him in any way than suggested he saw Crow as anything other than a close confidant. But there was always a purposeful softness to his touches, a lingering affection to words addressed to him, smoldering gazes that ignited a warmth previously only held in Leblanc’s walls.

Quickly and deftly, Joker pulled his chestnut-colored locks back into their tight braid. It wasn’t the same quality as Vigil, but the other had more experience. It would hold as needed, until he got home and no longer needed it. For an amateur, it was just about perfect.

“Thank you,” He said softly.

“Any time,”


	16. Wild Gamble

Despite his code name being ‘Crow’, Akechi was like a swan; movements elegant and refined, yet lethal and calculated. Every strike of his saber and shot of his gun were made with killing intent. Just as Joker found himself entranced more than a few times by Crow’d deadly battle dance, the other thieves also found themselves bewitched by the sight of their newest ‘member’ fighting. Fox had a sketchbook dedicated to these sights, which he’d dubbed ‘The non-existent line between dance and battle’.

It was no secret that everyone suspected the white-clad detective was sent to infiltrate their ranks and kill their leader. They hid their suspicions well, even Skull was able to hide it. It was also no secret that they suspected that Akechi was the one instigating mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns, or that he was answering to a puppetmaster who gave these deadly orders. They even had a recorded phone call between the detective and a man named ‘Shido’ talking about such a plan.

“Oh come on!” Ryuji groaned. “He makes that look way to easy!”

“Truly marvelous, such grace as he tore that shadow to shreds.” Yusuke breathed.

Akechi’s body slid through the air as easily as the bird his code name came from before landing softly on his feet. The black ooze that acted as shadows’ blood was onyx bright against the polished gleam of his saber, the foe in question kneeling breathlessly on the floor of mementos. Crow stalked forward, one silent step after the other. The brunette flicked his weapon with one fluid motion of his arm, casting off the black ooze from its blade. Staring down his opponent from behind that crimson mask of his, Crow ended the fight with a well-placed stab of his saber.

Beautiful and merciless. If their plan fell apart, Joker’s last moments of life might end up being the same as that shadow’s; staring down an unwavering killer who’s posture was straight from a painting. He had no intention of dying, not to anyone. Not until this twisted world changed for the better.

He was in the middle of his own gamble- igniting life back into those empty eyes that always faced forward. How much lovelier they’d look, burning with passion and life. It was a slow-moving plan that required painstaking patience and dedication, but already the blossoms that would become fruit were there. Within the confines of Leblanc, plastic smiles became real ones, faux laughter was no longer an echo, and eyes the color of wine finally started sparkling.

“Crow, only you can make fighting shadows look like an art form,” He said.

“You exaggerate, Fox’s movements are far more refined and elegant than mine,” Crow replied with a light chuckle.

“Really, because he’s said just that about you,"

Crow liked to stay as close to the back of the group as his position allowed, a silent indicator that he deemed himself estranged from the group, that he didn’t consider himself one of them. Another way he was silently reminding them he would betray them when everything was said and done.

Joker slipped closer to the other, daring to test boundaries. He’d found the detective enchanting, from the moment he’d first finally seen the adolescent in the flesh. So empty and doll-like, and yet there was always the hint that even if most desires were gone, he wanted to be more than just empty. It was that conflict that drew him closer, even knowing there was an unseen gun pressed to his head; square between the eyes. Let it not be said that Joker shied away from danger, even when he probably should have.

Crimson brushed against stark white, Joker’s fingers daring to touch Crows’. He could see the slight shift of the others eye, but he continued to act indifferent. Good, it was time to press a little more.

“You can deny it all you want, but everything about you carry’s a refined elegance,” Joker started. “Fox has mentioned on several occasions, how he’d love to have you model for him- nothing riske of course, like what he asked Panther to do,”

Crow hummed. “Well, perhaps it would be fine, though I can’t say I’d make a very good muse,”

“Really? I think it’s turn out marvelous,” He countered, “Dress you up as a doll, and it would make a grand contemporary painting,”

He watched Crow's movements stiffen for a second, only long enough for a keen eye to notice the slight change. He was walking a fine line, and really needed to be cautious lest he show the enemy his hand.

“Very funny, Joker,” Crow replied, a strained smile decorating his lips.

“Perhaps, but I wasn't joking,” He hummed. “Your mask is well crafted, it’s unsurprising that the masses are fooled by it, but your smiles never reach your eyes. Thone continue to remain glassy and listless, just like a doll’s,”

“Joker-“

“Oh come on!” Ryuji shouted.

“Well, it seems we are needed,” Joker said, offering a smile.

“Yes, it seems we are,” Crow agreed, his own very strained.

“Are you suicidal?” Morgana asked.

“Hm? No, why?” Ren replied, curious.

“You could have fooled me,” The feline replied flatly. “Given your little conversation with Akechi.”

“That? I’m merely trying to shift the odds into my favor.”

“By revealing everything to the enemy?”

“I’m not showing my hand, merely just stoaking the embers.”

“Joker, you need to be careful,” Morgana chastized. “The team might be able to function without you, but none of us wasn’t that worst-case scenarios to happen.”

“I know, I have no intention of dying either, but I told you, there’s something I want to sty, something I think could shift fate to my favor.”

Morgana sighed. “You understand it better than I do, so I’ll trust you,”

“Thank you,”

“But please, Ren, just be careful, I have a feeling there’s a reason Vigil want’s Akechi to be empty, and if he learns your trying to undo his hard work,”

“I know, but if he isn’t already aware of it now, then I think Akechi’s keeping secrets from his caretaker,”


	17. Check

Their deadline, the 20th, was fast approaching. As per Akechi’s recommendation, they would send the calling card on the 18th, using the urgency of such a close call to ensure that Sae’s treasure manifested. In only a few short days, this happy haze of bliss and warmth would vanish like morning mist, and it would be all his fault. Akechi knew all along that this couldn’t last, that he was doomed to end it all with his own hands. He couldn’t stop it; he was incapable of disobeying orders.

“This was all doomed from the start, I was never meant to know anything other than emptiness and guilt,” He reminded himself.

Vigil was away at the moment, continuing preparations for Nyx’s return, leaving him alone in the empty living room. His own time was short. Just as soon Amamiya Ren would die by his hands, he too was destined to vanish from this world. It was a form of death; unlike how Amamiya was to be shot in the head, his more symbolic death was to have his scraps of ego thrust into oblivion as any trace of ‘Akechi Goro’ was erased, and replaced with Nyx. Unlike Joker, who would be mourned and missed, he would vanish from this world unnoticed. None would care that an empty thing like him died.

He took another slow sip of tasteless, scalding tea. Perhaps he wasn’t as empty as he thought, and perhaps he had someone who would miss him, but it didn’t matter. Even if Amamiya had somehow cultivated a fragile ego in him, Akechi would soon murder the one person who might have mourned him. His entire life was a tragedy, and this was just one more blight to add.

Inside the quicksilver cache case, a single police issue notebook rested in a bed of velvet, as though it were a ring and not a bound leather set of paper.

“Yes, that’s what it looked like,” Makoto confirmed.

Good, they finally had their fake treasure prepared. All that was left was to wait until the calling card could be sent.

“Good job Yusuke, and you too Futaba,” He said.

The former merely nodded, always subdue in his expressions, but there was a pride in his eyes and colored the slight upturn of his lips. The letter, she beamed with her pride, eyes gleaming and smile a crooked slash on her face expressing just how happy she was. Both had done well to create a realistic replica of Sae Nijima’s treasure, or what they thought it might be. No one could be 100 percent certain what the root of her distorted desires could be, but Makoto knew her best, and felt certain it would be the police notebook of their late father.

With the replica treasure finished, the Phantom Thieves had everything they needed for their supposed final heist. They knew Akechi would betray them in the end, and would somehow have the police there waiting for them in the palace. It was a gamble, but they were certain they could use Sae’s palace to outwit the tractor and get everyone out alive, one way or another.

“Now that everything is ready, we wait,” Morgana said.

“Yes,” Haru murmured in agreement. “But, I still wish we had other options besides letting Ren get captured.”

“Yeah, it not like we dunno that they intend to kill him once they have ‘im” Ryuji grunted. “And it ain’t like we don’t know Akechi’s gonna be the one to off ‘im.”

Akechi Goro, Crow, their 9th member of the group. From the get-go, the knew he would betray them, or they at least suspected he would. Akechi claimed to have awoken his pers in early October, but they had proven that he was able to understand Morgana as far back as June. That, among a few other reasons, was why they suspected him not only to be a mole, but the alleged black mask who used the metaverse for his own self-gain. Or the self-gain of his puppetmaster, someone known as Shido.

“This is a gamble, but we’ve done all we can to ensure the odds are in our favor,” Makoto reminded them all.

Futaba lost some of her steam at that. Despite her best attempt, their plan to bug Akechi’s phone was a failure. They didn’t know how much information the enemy had, and beyond one phone call, they knew next to nothing. Futaba had done her best, the bug app had been more than inconspicuous, but somewhere they had underestimated their enemy’s vigilance.

“Chin up, Futaba,” Ren said. “Without that bug of your’s we wouldn’t even have the hint to who Akechi’s puppet master is. ‘Shido’ isn’t much, but it’s more than what we started with.”

The ginger-haired girl smiled weakly at that.

“Ren’s right, something is always better than nothing, no matter how small,” Ann added.

“…That was a brave face you put on, especially for Futaba’s sake,” Morgana commented.

Everyone sans the two had shuffled out of Leblanc minutes ago to catch their respective train, or because it was dinner time at home (Futaba). 

“Thanks, she needed that pick-me-up,” Ren replied.

In all honesty, he was scared. Having a plan that required you to be caught by the police, it was risky, even without the end goal being to fake your own death. He’d read up on internet stories talking about the police brutality that happened behind locked doors. Even if Sae how morally just enough to not stoop to such levels, he would likely be interrogated by the police first, and at their mercy until she showed up.

He was the one most likely to endure under pressure, but not even a fool like him could just turn fear off. The riskiest part of the plan came down to him convincing the prosecutor to belive his wild fable, and then having her show Akechi his phone when the detective came to finish the job. If he failed to either convince her, or get his final message to her, he was dead.


	18. Desperat Gamble

Even though this was the same route they had mapped out, something about using the infiltration route on the actual heist felt different. Akechi was a dancer of death, shadows falling to his saber and Robin Hood’s magic attack like it was some form of a waltz. Years spent fighting alone, with only himself to guard his own back, 2 weeks was not enough time to truly become comfortable fighting in a group, it was still so strange, so surreal having Joker or Skull covering his blind spots, the thieves his partners in the bloody waltz.

He would sorely miss this feeling of security.

Soon, far sooner than expected- though time did seem to blur, they reached the bridge of judgment, the last stop between them and Sae’s most beloved treasure. Boldly sauntering into the decorated waiting area, everyone ground to a halt at the sight of the tasteful use of greenery and stonework, and more importantly, at the empty pedestal in the center. Sae’s treasure; the core of her distorted world, was missing.

It wasn’t the first time a shadow had hidden its treasure post haste, and under different circumstances, Akechi wouldn’t have given a damn (not that he ever does). Unfortunately, as a Phantom Thief, this just threw the biggest wrench in his plans, supposedly. All it did was drag this charade out longer.

“Ahh, you’ve finally arrived,” A family voice drawled coyly. “First; let me congratulate you all for making it this far, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“For as much joy as those words bring me, we’d much rather have your treasure over words of praise,” He replied smoothly.

Sae chuckled. “Come. It’s time we ended this once and for all,” As she said that, a circular vault style door opened, revealing a path onward.

“It appears that she isn’t hiding her treasure, merely choosing a battlefield of her preference,” Akechi commented plainly.

“We’ll need to be cautious, she has Homefield advantage,” Joker replied.

“Damn it! She’s mocking us!” Ryuji seethed. “Let’s go after her!”

Clamoring up one of the pair of staircases, the mismatched group passed through the newly opened door and stepped into an elevator lobby. This was likely the last stop they had before facing Sae’s shadow.

“Is everyone prepared?” He asked.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Noir replied.

“Yes, let’s go,” Queen agreed, voice unwavering. Quieter, he heard her murmur “Don’t worry Sis, I’ll protect you,”

Akechi drowned the bitter feeling in his gut. He wasn’t here to kill, not Sae at least.

The elevator ride was short, taking them to likely the very top of the distorted casino in a matter of seconds. Everyone shuffled out into a circular open space overlooked by a grand skylight. Stone pots all housing plants lined the high ground.

Once everyone had vacated the elevator, it retracted back into the ground. The moment it did do, a large TV screen blinked to life, showing them Sae’s shadow, only her face, smirking down at them. The reason for such distortion, the hardships Sae was forced to endure after the deather of her and Makoto’s father, the pain of being left behind, and the twisted words the SUI director had fed her to accelerate the distortion.

Though he verbally chated her for her less than noble reasoning, he was no different. No, he was much, much worse than her. Maybe that was the reason he’d placed his hand on Queen’s shoulder, fingers spread to avoid the spikes, and reminded her of her resolve. Where was this compassion coming from?

Sae’s shadow, in all her yakuza-esk glory, sauntered over to them, her painted lips pulled into a gleeful smirk. This would be his first time fighting a shadow without the intent to kill them. It was a good thing he was working in a group, hiding his full potential from them, it would ensure he never used more power than necessary, thus lowering the chances of an accident happening.

The room changed, not in a full out shift and rearrangement, but the glass panels all around them rose revealing numbers spaces in black and red, a roulette circle. 

Sae didn’t resist as their persona unloaded one powerful attack each, nor did she even change form. Not as much damage as he’d hoped was done, but it was a start. Shadow Sae chucked and tipped down her hat as though she hadn’t just endured the best of their best.

“Now then, let’s play fair and square,” She declared, snapping her fingers and setting the roulette in motion.

High up, the large Tv screen displayed the words “Bet HP” on it. Akechi didn’t know what was going on, but Oracle's off guard “W-what the?!” didn’t have him feeling too confident. Not that he was ever confident. Very likely, this was one os Sae’s games, and just as likely, the game was rigged. They’d need to tread cautiously.

“Now, let us play a game of Roulette. The stakes will be… our lives!” Shadow Sae declared ominously. “Of course, acts of violence are forbidden here. One must follow the rules.”

Yes, her skewed rules.

“We already told you, there’s no way we’re gonna follow your rules anymore!” Oracle rebuked.

“That’s fine by me. Such troublesome people will just face the penalty.” Sae replied cooly.

Ignoring her dark warning, or perhaps testing the waters so the others wouldn’t suffer in his stead, Joker targeted Sae with a strong physical attack. It struck home, chipping off some of her health, but the laugh that followed was eerie and chilly.

“Ahh…So you’ve broken the rules.” Shadow Sae observed gleefully. “In that case, it’s time you be penalized.”

The sadistic joy in her voice, followed by the real one hit knock out that left Joker barely standing had Akechi doing a double-take. Sae never sounded this happy when prosecuting in the past. Just how badly had the SUI director twisted her morals?

“Those who cannot follow the rules are not to be tolerated. That’s simply how society operates.” Shadow Sae declared.

Quen and Panther both rushed to heal Joker, filling his depleted health back up to full. With no other choice but to defend, let they earn another penalty, all they could do was stand weary of what came next.

“You will predict which pocket the ball will fall into.” Shadow Sae explained. Now then, the time has come for the first round. Chose where you will place your bet!”

“I’m almost positive she’s going to try and cheat, but even if we bring that up, she’d just ignore us,” Morgana said. “We should just go along with the game for now and try and gain evidence on her methods of cheating.”

“Mona is right, it’s all we can do at this point,” He agreed.

With no other options available at the moment, it was left to Joker to make the bet. With it being HP on the line, joker rightfully took the safer low-risk route, choosing black. The ball spun around a few more times before slowing. Just as it seemed it might land in a black pocket, the ball bounced off some opaque yet shiny, landing in the adjacent red space.

As they were declared the loser of this round, as an instance of white-hot agony washed over them as penalty, Sae’s Shadow cackled.

“We lost…” Mona hissed, biting back the last traces of the pain. “Have you figured anything out, Joker?”

“Yeah,” Their leader breathed. “She’s using a glass lid of some kind.”

“How humiliating…” He murmured, not actually caring.

“Let’s catch her in the act so she can’t talk her way out of it!” Oracle proposed. “Have someone snipe the pocket when that glass lid appears!”

“Crow, let’s put that sharp eye of your to good use,” Joker said.

There was something, off, about his voice, like he was talking about mare than just sniping the glass lid. Ignoring it in favor of following the command, he took to high ground, pressing himself up against the stone pots to hide and wait. This time, the screen displayed “Bet Money” as the roulette started up. Sharp red eyes watched the roulette pockets blur together under the man of inertia. He fell into position just as Joker made their high stake bet.

Eyes never leaving the spinning pockets, he waited as the roulette began to slow. The gleam of light on glass flashed as the lid appeared. His silenced shot made little noise as the bullet shattered the lid and the ball rolled into one of their allotted pockets, making them the winners of this round.

“Wh-what?!” Shadow Sae shrieked, falling to a kneeling position.

Quickly rejoining the others, the 8 of them had Shadow Sae surrounded, caught in the act red-handed.

“What was that about playing fair and square?! You were totally cheating!” Oracle said.

Sae’s shadow was quiet, sans a few quiet ‘Ngs’.

“You coward! What’re you so quiet for? Say something!” Oracle demanded.

“Shut up… SHUT UUP!” Sae roared in retaliation to the young girl’s taunting.

Finally, shadow Sae’s form shifted in a frenzy of black ooze, The frenzied form of a mechanical apocalyptic raider emerging. The form was oddly fitting, considering the rider outsit her sister wore. Though she didn’t have on brass knuckle busters, the saber and canon were no less deadly.

“S-Sis?!” Queen choked out.

“Cheating?! Unfair?! Silence! This is MY world!” Shadow Sae howled in fury. “If you want a fair fight, then to hell with the game! I’ll crush you by force. Fair and square, just as you like!”

“This… is my sister’s true nature?! No…” Queen despaired.

He wanted to comfort her, but now was not the time. Again, where was such empathy coming from? He was empty, apathy should be all he had.

“We’re finally back to a normal fight… good luck, Joker!” Oracle wished them.


	19. For Good Luck

Sae’s shadow displayed rampant desperation and fury Akechi was all too acquainted with after fighting shadows for so long. It was the one thing he and the thieves had in common. This dance of steel and gunfire, of magic and sorrow, was not a waltz- it was too fast pace for such. No, the battle with Sae’s furious shadow was a quick-paced tango. Black saber grinding against the gritty armor of shadow Sae, weaving in and out with the other combat thieves, for a moment, he allowed himself to be lost in the music of screaming and shrieking.

Per Joker’s wise orders, Queen stayed to the edge of the conflict with Mona, the pair supporting them with healing magic and the occasional buff, attack spell in between both. Oracle's sharp analysis and unmatched data gathering allowed them to not only know what the shadow’s weakness was, but we able to anticipate strong, potentially lethal, attacks ahead of time.

It was so different, fighting in a group like this. He didn’t have Oracle's navigation powers, and none of his personas were able to replicate Necronomicom’s skills. He was accustomed to hurling magic and bullets down upon his target, watching to see what worked and what didn’t, having only his own powers to guard himself with.

Legs kicking himself into the air, he passed over Joker, slate grey boring deep into wine maroon for a moment. Smirking, their tricky leader raised a hand to his mask. Seth once more emerged from blue fire, growling out a battle cry to match Sae’s own howling. The physical attack the black dragon let loose, crashing his bulky frame into Sae before returning to a mask, was not one he wished to be on the receiving end of any time soon.

Both sides chiseled away at each others stamina, though, unlike shadow Sae, they had healers. The battle was long and drawn out, hours could have been wasted in the struggle. He normally didn’t have such a luxury, fighting on his own meant stamina was always in short supply; thus, battles had to be finished as soon as possible.

This battle might have been ended sooner, if he’d been able to give in and let Loki rampage. But doing that would destroy weeks of hard work, and derail the plan in motion. There was no guarantee that the cops waiting outside would be able to spring the trap on their own.

The moment they had Sae backed into a proverbial corner (the room was circular, no literal corners in sight), she pulled a move he was well acquainted with seeing time after time. Desperation dropped Sae’s defense nearly to 0, but rose her attack to the maximum. It wasn’t a move shadows normally made, except when they felt their lives were in danger. Because he normally maneuvered through palaces of mementos with the intent to kill, such a last gambit to survive was common. The same could not be said of the Phantom Thieves.

He saw the way Skull and Fox were tossed; flung through the air when they dared get too close. Unthinking, the whispered ‘persona’ escaped his lips and Robin Rood emerged from blue fire. The shining white-clad persona caught the two boys with ease and returned them to solid ground before returning to nothing. Why had he done that?

There wasn't time to think about unconscious actions as Sae’s shadow pressed on in her desperation fueled attacks. Eventually, they were able to finally chip away at the last of her health, their own stamina not much better. The battered saber and canon dropped to the felt ground as shadow Sae herself stumbled forward, collapsing onto the floor.

The shadow’s body became black ooze once more as it’s form returned to it’s more human inclined state. Queen rushed to her sister’s side, gently cradling the woman’s head in her lap. Though he couldn’t understand why she would show such kindness to a kere shadow- and one that had nearly killed many of them over the duration of the fight, his heart felt a bit lighter.

“We’ll go get the treasure,” Skull muttered, he and Fox detangling themselves to go retrieve what they’d come here to steal.

“Makoto?” Shadow Sae murmured, cracking her pained eyelids open to stare up at their strategist.

“I- I don’t think it’s wrong to bring light to evils which can’t be judged by law. That all the Phantom Thieves- all we’ve been trying to do too,” Queen said. “But these, aggressive investigations? Twisting the truth for your own personal gain…?” There was a slight quiver in her voice. 

Unknown shame gnawed at his guts. He was no better, allowing himself to use the Psychotic breakdown to further his own fame, even if it wasn't of his own choosing.

“Please… You have to think back to the feelings you had when you first wanted to be a prosecutor,” Queen pleaded. “Think about your justice, sis.”

“My justice…” Shadow Sae murmured.

Justice, such an interesting thing. It was nothing more than glorified revenge, a means of getting back at others for all the wrong they inflicted upon you. Perhaps, in another life where emotions hadn’t been ripped from his grasp, he might have sought such vengeance from Shido and the world. But, he was incapable of desiring justice, or enacting revenge.

“Try to remember how you use to be,” Queen continued. 

“How I…” Sae’s shadow looked puzzled, a gloved hand of her reaching up to brush against her sister’s exposed cheek.

“Nijima-san… She’s just like my father…” Noir mused quietly. “What caused them to change like this…?”

Oblivious child. President Okumura wasn’t exactly the pitiful victim his daughter thought him to be. Unlike Sae, who’s distortion was largely made by warping her already fragile morals, courtesy of the SUI director, the senior Okumura had walked that path of his own volition.

“Hm… Even though their own desires were the cause, succumbing to such distorted thoughts is strange…” He agreed. “It there another reason they don’t know of…?”

For Sae, yes. She was just a pawn in Shido’s game of chess. Okumura… was a tad more complicated. Shido had reached out to the man with the intent of using him as a pawn as well, but when given power, it was Okumura himself that had succumbed to his own selfishness. He chose to request those breakdown himself, without prompting for Shido or any of the others associated with him.

“We found it!” Fox called.

He and skull returned, Skull holding a metal briefcase in one hand. So, it was finally done.

“The investigation will now be able to proceed. The suspicions against you will be lifted as well.” He replied. “Though, to think that I, a detective, would act alongside the Phantom Thieves…”

“You’re more than welcome to continue working with us,” Joker offered.

Wishful thinking.

“Unfortunately, I must decline,” He answered softly. “This shall be the end of our working together.” Because, soon you’ll be dead, he thought sadly.

“Alright, we don’t need to stay here any longer!” Mona reminded them. Then, softer, he turned to Queen. “Are you alright…?”

“I am, let’s go,” she answered, removing herself from her sister’s side. 

“Hu?!” Oracle yelped. “Enemy reading! When did they…?!” She fell silent for a bit, as her network gathered more data. “They’re gathering outside!”

“For real?! The hell’s goin’ on!? Skull cried.

The trap, the police were finally in place. 

“Look at those numbers…!” Fox breathed.

“This doesn’t look good…” Panther worried.

“We defeated the palace ruler and even stole the treasure, yet the shadows are still restless…” Mona noted. “It doesn't make any sense… What’s going on here?”

So, they didn’t realize those weren’t just shadows. Good, the trap was all set and the players' none the wiser to the truth. All he needed was to get Joker outside somehow. 

“There are more coming?! This’ll be dangerous if we don’t do something…!” Oracle informed them, eyes shifting through more and more data.

Faintly, the sounds of handheld radios came through. He hadn’t anticipated this, he waves strength was fare stronger than what Vigil had planned for. Hopefully, she didn’t catch on to the true nature of the swarm outside just yet. 

“Hu…?” Her quiet confusion was lost the more pressing need o escape.

“We need to go now! Those guys in black suits are almost here. We’ll be done for if we get surrounded.” Morgana said. 

“A team this large would be discovered immediately. We had best split up for our escape…” Queen advised. “Although, we’ll need someone to act as a decoy…” 

She paused for a moment, thinking over the situation. “…No, that’s too dangerous.” She declared. 

“It’s fine, leave it to me,” Joker said.

“Joker?!” Queen cried. “Are you planning on distracting them by yourself?!”

What? He’s been prepared to volunteer himself, then use Joker’s good nature against him.

“Let him do it, Queen,” Skull said. “He’s quiet, but once his mind’s made up, he’s not gonna take no for an answer.” 

The blond held the briefcase up, offering it to their fearless leader. Joker smirked coyly as he reached over to take the case. 

“…I’m sure you ain’t gonna die, it’s you we’re talkin’ about here,” 

“Please don’t do anything reckless, OK?” Noir pleaded. 

“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t make it back.” Panther snarled, voice wavering.

“We still haven’t fulfilled our deal, remember?” Mona reminded the ebonette ruefully. 

“Even more are coming!” Oracle called.

All their pleading and promises would change a thing. Joker would be caught, that was what would happen. The plan was solid, and everyone was making decisions leading to the inevitable. But they didn’t know that.

“This truly is a painful reluctant parting…!” Fox sighed. 

“It seems we’d best hurry.” He reminded them. 

“…We’ll see you later.” Queen said, voice like a vow. 

He followed the other boy long enough to ensure a successful send off. His gut felt like someone had replaced the delicate flesh with a solid lead.

“… Be careful, leader,” He said, lying through his teeth.

Before he could turn away and make his own escape, Joker’s gloved hand grabbed his wrist. Pulling him close, the briefcase under one arm, Joker place a single, chaste kiss against his own lips. The resulting warmth from the display fo affection made his want to cry, despite having no tears.

‘Joker gave him one of those signature smirks of his. “A kiss for good luck,” He explained.

He watched Joker’s black form retreat across the hanging lights. A pale glove rose up to ghost along his lips as he watched his target leave, before finally tearing his eyes away from the soon-to-be-deadman, making his own escape.

He really wanted to cry. How dare he do that, offering up affection as though he cared about him.

As though there was any chance of a beautful reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anyone not expecting this to at some point turn gay? 'Cause too bad, and I am not sorry.


	20. A kiss goodbye

Slipping unseen from the casino palace, he forced himself to watch Joker’s attempt to flee from the police, it was his punishment. He remained still and unflinching, even as he watched the butt of a standard-issue riot squad rifle being slammed into the raven-haired youth’s mask. He was to stay there and wait for Vigil to come get him. Perhaps the golden-eyed man knew from his spot, he’d be able to see Joker’s captured quite easily. 

“Good work, young master,” Vigil cooed as he stalked up behind his young ward.

A black coat, not unlike the one Joke wore as part of his metaverse outfit, was settled over his white clothes. Silently, he allowed himself to be guided back out into the real world and into an unassuming black car. He was settled into the back seat, coat still draped over his shoulders – the fabric was faintly perfumed with the rich musk of ground coffee, the spice of curry, and something unnameable. Ahh, it was a test. He buried the urge to nestle his face into the collar of the coat, locking it behind a wrought iron will, and forced himself to not even so much as trave his tongue over his lips, despite the memory of the kiss lingering like a fresh mist. If he did any of that, Vigil would know, and the man would pry this kernel of warmth from his.

Neither were the type of idle chatter, even if Vigil’s smile made him seem the type. The roundabout drive over to the police station was heavy and silent, the air feeling as though it had turned to molasses. Vigil had chosen to leave and drive back using back roads and side streets- a mean to prevent suspicion from those unrelated. Parking in a side lot a few feet from the lumbering building of mortar and concrete, several more hours were aloud to tick by, to ensure the police and Sae would be finished with their business by the time he arrived. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, Akechi waited with the patience of a saint (it have been beaten into him early on) until Vigil opened the car door for him.

Sliding out gracefully, he left the coat in the car; shrugging it off before standing up. The silencer was slipped into his peacoat’s inner breast pocket with ease- a heavyweight despite being no heavier than his smartphone. He schooled his face easily into the charming smile that was always plastered on TVs, nodded to his caretaker, and began his march to the underground interrogation room.

“This entire story of yours is just so, unbelievable!” Sae Nijma groaned, rubbing her temples.

Ren only hummed. Despite all the drugs still lingering in his system, giving him once of the worst killer headaches imaginable and making the edges of his vision run like watercolors, he could see how conflicted the older Nijima sister was. All he needed was to push her a little more.

“But, you have me convinced,” Sae sighed (heh). “Despite how crazy something like the metaverse actually existing sounds, it answers many of the questions I had regarding the metal shutdown and psychotic breakdown cases.” The silver-haired woman shook her head. “So then, where you and your collaborators able to discern the identity of this black-masked person? The one Madarame and Kaneshiro’s shadows mentioned.”

Ren shook his head, then wince at the pain the flared up from the small motion. “No, we never confirmed his identity, but we have our suspicions,” His voice came out raspy and breaking.

“Really?!” Sae demanded. “Tell me, who do you suspect is the culprit behind their heinous crimes!”

Despite her voice not rising even a decibel in volume, Sae’s words caused his head to throb more. Who was their suspect again? Oh, that’s right. Ren bright up a finger to trace the outline of his lips, even now the sensation of warmth and softness lingers against the now chapped and split flesh.

“I- can’t say who right now, but they were someone we knew would betray us, so we let them join, it made it easier to hide that we, in turn, were conspiring against them,” He replied. 

Was it strange that he wished he’d stolen more than just one kiss?

“So you were all aware that you’d be sold out, and that this would happen, why did you just go along with such a plan?”

“To try and figure out who was pulling Black Mask’s string. He is nothing but a hitman for a higher power, someone who gains the most from all of this.”

He was so close now, he could see it in her eyes. Yes, now was the time to go all-in, if he couldn’t convince her to aid him now, no amount of further pushing would net him anything. Besides, time was running out. Sae would be forced to leave soon, and then ‘he’ would come to finish the job. 

Ren pushed his phone towards Sae.

“Ahh? You smartphone… they found it on you when you were apprehended, and I’m told it’s guarded by a difficult lock,” She mused. “What about it?”

“I want to make a deal, prosecutor Nijima,” He replied cooly.

“A deal? Are you going to tell me how to open it?”

“No, I need for you to show the traitor this phone, they should already be on their way here.”

He saw the subtle way Sae stiffened at his words.

“You’ll know who to show this too, I trust you,” He pressed. “please, trust me on this, if you don’t show him this, we’re both in hot water.”

“Akechi-kun? What are you doing here?”

Akechi offered Sae a smile, as fake and plastic as any he’d ever given her. Perfect timing, she must have just finished interrogating R- Amamiya-kun.

“I’m off to interrogate the prisoner, same as you,” He answered pleasantly.

It was far from the same; he was going to kill. Sae had sought answers to all of her questions, Akechi had no question, only orders. No one would even know it was him anyhow. The security camera would show Amamiya overpower and then kill the guard, then shoot himself. The coroner Shido had would attest to the same thing. 

“Oh, that reminds me, does this mean anything to you?” Sae asked, showing him Amamiya’s phone.

“Mm, no, should it?” He asked.

Sae shrugged, then pocketed the phone once more. “See you later, and be careful, he’s a tricky one.”

Smiling, he gave the older woman a polite nod before continuing down the underground corridor. For a moment, it felt as though the world shifted, things sliding out and back into place. A quick glance around told him that nothing had changed. He brushed the odd feeling side, chalking it up to the nerves tightly coiled in his stomach. If there was ever a person he didn’t want to kill, it was Amamiya Ren, but he was incapable of going against orders.

Arriving at the interrogation room’s solid steel door, he flashed the guard (a dead man walking) a charming smile.

“Would you mind coming in with me? I’m a bit nervous to face a murderer alone.” He requestion.

He wasn’t scared, because Amamiya wasn’t the murderer of the two. He quickly removed the silencer from his inner breast pocket as the guard opened the steel door before leading the way inside. He flashed Amamiya a smile, could feel those iron-grey eyes drag across his face as though peering past his mask. The instant the door was closed shut, he snatched the guard’s gun and screwed in the silencer. The man let out a strangled cry, hands up in surrender. Squeezing the trigger without a moment’s hesitation, the silencer made what would have been a deafening roar a quiet pop as the bullet tore through the man’s chest, killing him quickly.

The guard collapsed backward, dead, he turned his gaze to Amamiya-kun. The younger boy stared at him, mouth slightly agape at the deadly display of wit and skill. Surprisingly, there was no fear in those eyes. He slowly stepped closer to the bolted table, other hand fingering the muzzle of the gun and the silencer attached.

It felt as though this instance demanded some for of goodbye, so as he pressed the gun against the boy’s forehead, he stared into those eyes the color of steel and gunpowder and declared “This is where your justice ends”. 

He was unprepared for cold fingers to curl around his wrist with surprising strength from a youth beaten and bloody, and likely still drugged. The bullet skimmed over Amamiya’s head, crunching harmlessly into the wall. The chare squealed as it ground against the floor, Amamiya standing quickly.

More fingers buried themselves his the loose waves at the back of his head. He was dragged forward by his hair, locks of cinnamon brown behind tugged free of its braid, chapped lips cool and dry pressed themselves against his mouth. Unlike the first kiss, this one was needier despite also being closed-mouthed, the hand on his wrist rubbing soothing circles into his wrist. Unable to react, unable to think, Akechi lost himself in this just as unfortunet display of affection. When those rough lips removed themselves from his, and those cold hands untangled themselves from his, he felt a single tear, a single display of true emotion slip down his cheek. A calloused thumb brushed the single drop away, Ren smirking over at him, as devilish and coy as he was as Joker.

He didn’t stop smiling, even as the gun was placed once more to his head. He didn’t fight as the trigger was pulled, as the bullet tor through his skull, spraying the wall behind him with blood and gore. Even as his lifeless body crumpled back into its chare, body dropping against the table, he was still smiling. Akechi didn’t weep as he removed the silencer and dropped it back into his breast pocket, didn’t sob as he positioned Ren’s fingers into the trigger and grip of the gun, didn’t breakdown as he exited from the room. One leather-clad finger traced the bow of his bottom lip, the other hand fishing out his phone.

He needed to let Shido know the dead was done, then take out his other target.


	21. Checkmate

The drained weariness that clung to his skin, clotted in his bones, made his feet feel like leaded weights, had only intensified after the execution of the SIU director. The man’s shadow, like all others he’d battled alone, had put up a desperate fight before a bullet finally tore through the cavity of his chest, finally ending the man’s existence. Staring blankly down at the dying man’s body, the image of Amamiya Ren, freshly dead and smiling after that stolen kiss, flashed before him for a moment. He was driven from the though as the palace shook and began crumbling.

Sprinting easily though the collapsing cognition, calling upon Loki and his hefty broadsword every so often to keep his path clear, he ducked and rolled, the world twisting and writhing around him as he was ejected back into reality. Taking in harsh breaths through his nose, a quick look around informed him he was in an empty back ally not far from the public prosecutor’s office.

“I take it the deed is done?” Vigil’s cool voice asked, as the man himself stoled into view.

“Yes, both Amamiya and the SIU director are dead,” He answered monotonously.

“Good, let us return home then.”

He was so tired, the execution of Amamiya bringing with it a pain he was unfamiliar with, a pang of guilt unlike any other. He forced his face to remain calm and porcilin, the pain in his chest thretening to drive him mad, as Vigil guided him back to the car. Deft fingers plucked the forgotten silencer from his inner breast pocket, the metal cylinder vanishing into his caretaker’s sleeve like it was a magician’s prop.

The coat perfumed with coffee, curry, and the unnamable scent was once more draped over his shoulders before he was allowed to take a seat in the car. Once he was safely bucked tight, Akechi let his head lawl to one side, eyes transfixed to the scenery as it bleed by. His iron will, tempered and strong depite being punshed to its limits, kept him from reacting to the coat. Once, in th depths of mementos, while hiding from a reaper, Amamiya-kun had draped his coat over him to cover the pearly white of his princely garb. That coat also held the musk of coffee and curry spice, along with the lingering traces of flowers and cinnamon, and the unmistakable smell of Amamiya himself.

When they finally arrive at Shido’s estate, Akechi allowed himself to Shepherded into the large residence and guided to the bathroom. He willed his fingers not to twitch as the coat was removed from his shoulders, followed by the rest of his clothes. Vigil cocked an eyebrow at the messy state of his braid, but didn’t ask him why it was nearly undone. Perhaps his caretaker chaulked it up to the fight with the SIU’s director.

He stood still as Vigil drew his bath. For a single second, he didn’t recognize the person looking back at him in the mirror. Who was that stranger, with the sad red eyes? The emotion had existed for only a short time, but the fact at even for a moment, he’d felt sorrow and greif, was startling. He shouldn’t be capable of expressing emotions. But, earlier, he’d shed a tear long though to no longer exist. Was he no longer as empty as he believed himself to be?

He remained quiet and pliant as Vigil helped him settled into the tub, bathwater stiflingly warm as ever. Shampoo, soap, conditioner; it was the same several steps every time, a repition he knew quite well. 

The smile on Ren’s face was nothing short of devilish, something he normally wore as Joker. The plan had worked- there’s no way Akechi wouldn’t have shown up by now otherwise. He wondered if his cognitive double was dead by now, and if his own personal gamble har worked. The actions and manners of Sae’s cognitive version of him would be shaped by her perception of him, if she saw that he held affection for his would-be killer, then that would reflect on the cognition if him sitting in the metaverse.

Eventually, the solid steel door rumbled open once more. Sae, hard-eyed and determined walked over to him, heals clacking as always against the concrete floor.

“Can you stand?” She hissed into his ear.

Instead of responding, Ren shoved himself to his feet. He wasn’t steady on his feet, a combination of the lingers side effects of the drug and the beating he’d endured beforehand. His body swayed, and his legs did want to give out on him, but he remained upright. Sae slung one of his arms over her shoulder, across the back of her neck, keeping him steady as the pair slipped unseen from the interrogation room.

“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to call you brave or an idiot,” Sae chuckled. “But, whatever you are, you’ve convinced me of your justice.”

“That was the plan,” He quipped back, voice dry and hoarse. “But a believed in her conviction, that deep down you still held tight to your justice.”

He saw the slightly wilted look on her face. Her actions hadn’t been very virtuous as of late, decisions fueled more often by envy and anger, for the sake of self-gain rather than justice proper. But, like how his words had aided in Mishima changing under his own power, His words, along with Makoto’s own back in the palace, had surely aided Sae in changing on her own, without having to steal her treasure.

He hoped he could do the same for Akechi. He had pushed where he could, staking the coals where he couldn’t push. Right when he’d stolen that good luck kiss, he was sure he’d seen sad happiness in the other’s maroon eyes. And if his luck had held, even if it wasn’t him per se, his cognitive double should have stolen a goodbye kiss from the older teen as well.

The next time they crossed paths, and there would be a next time (their next target would be this mysterious Shido-san), he would see how much his gamble had paid off. If even a glimmer of life was found in those eyes of his, Ren would know he’d won.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came to me as I was watching the persona 5 anime, so decided to roll with it. Also, I'm pretty sure it's Nyx who's Philemon's counterpart (if I'm even getting the lore right, haven't seen much about the first 2 games), but if I got that wrong, someone please tell me.


End file.
